Overboard
by SweetMars03
Summary: When Antonio Carriedo the millionaire falls off his yacht and gets amnesia, Lovino feels the universe is granting him his first solid in 16 years. But what happens when the two men fall in love with each other and their chaotic little life? Will Lovino be able to keep his secret? Or is Antonio bound to leave his life like all good things seem to be? Based on the movie Overboard.
1. Chapter 1

If there was one thing Lovino hated in this world, it was rich assholes. True, his only goal in life was to come as close to becoming one as possible, but he could only admit that to himself after Feliciano was safely tucked away, Marcello was out and Lovino was in the company of an empty bottle of wine.

Still, devoted Catholic that he was, he had to begrudgingly admit his gratitude. For without stupid rich assholes, where would his failing catering business even be?

He should've known it was a dumbass idea to start a high end catering service in the middle of nowhere Oregon. No one for nearly a hundred miles had nearly enough money to order his services. He's considered nearly a dozen times a day just scraping it all to hell and getting some random desk job that could put Marcello and eventually Feliciano through college but somehow he managed to keep pulling excuses out of his ass.

He had to. Otherwise he wouldn't be here, frozen in utter disgusted awe as he tilted his head back to get as much of the that floating mansion some ungrateful jackass called a boat in his field of vision. His crew was similarly struck.

"We might actually get paid tonight, hermano." Carlos said 'quietly', though Carlos's definition of 'quiet' still fell under most people's understanding of shouting.

"Shut up, you worthless parasite!" Lovino snapped. "And don't distract the new kid. New kid!"

The poor boy startled, his eyes wide in that ever present look of fear he always wore, like he was expecting some vile and sinister creature lingering after his shadow to finally pounce.

Lovino shook his head. Why was this his life?

"Can you stop looking like Jason is on your heels for five minutes?" He hissed out. This served only to fuel the other's anxiety.

"I hate all of you." Lovino moaned out, ignoring Feliks' exaggerated gasp of protest. He gripped his cart's handle tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Without turning back he spoke loudly to his crew as he began strolling towards that conservatively named 'yacht'.

"New kid, stop shivering. Carlos act like you're a normal goddamn human. Feliks put that phone away before I throw it in the harbor. And Arthur," Lovino paused as he said this, realizing something. He turned back slowly and gave the man and earnest look.

"For the love of God, don't touch anything in the kitchen."

Arthur huffed but Lovino's eyes had already hardened in that way that they only did when he knew he was about to cook and everyone knew well enough to drop their shit and listen at that point. Ramsey had nothing on their boss.

And so they boarded the boat, greeted by the co-captain as he quickly took them down to the kitchens and far from anything expensive or irreplaceable. That's not to say that the kitchen didn't cost more than Lovino and his crew could ever dream of making, but he was certain whoever could call this monstrosity a casual vacation house wouldn't bat an eye at losing a seventy-five hundred dollar stove.

The menu had been insanely specific and expensive and Lovino and his crew had hauled most of the week on less than six hours of sleep to pull it off.

They set to work immediately, preparing the final touches to the food that needed it and setting up their workstations for the serving. Arthur and Feliks returned from getting dressed and Lovino gave them the specific briefing for the event.

"I had to run everything by the chef twice but it seems we're clear to serve. It's a small get together for some bastards in money. For now most of the food is just appetizers and such which you should keep rotating often. The actual course is set to be served about half an hour in, if there are any requests or anything goes wrong report back immediately."

Arthur and Feliks nodded determinedly, standing perfectly straight as they picked up their trays and walked out, their uniforms as pristine as their manners. Hopefully.

For some reason, Lovino was hit with an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that he would not get through the night before something went horribly wrong.

"Well!" He snapped at Carlos and Tolys, who had a hard time looking him in the eye. "Get off your asses, we've got a Spaniard to please."

* * *

Feliks is only beaten out of longest serving employee by Carlos. Three whole years trying to help Lovino find any kind of clientele in this small port town in Oregon. To this day, he doesn't know how the Italian managed to do anything before him.

Even though business was always absurdly slow, in between all of them they usually managed to scrape together enough events to go on, though sometimes it got rocky. Despite the fact that not all of those events ended up being for Lovino's target clientele, Feliks had presenced plenty of high end dining rooms and plenty of high end assholes.

Overtime he had learned the delicate intricacies of how higher society wished to interact with scum like the cooks and waiters slaving round the clock to serve their every whim. It happened to be the most amusing part of the job, and a large part of the reason he hadn't quit.

When Arthur was brought on, Feliks was excited to share his knowledge of the finer points of serving the wealthy. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Arthur's second event with the crew was on a 30 million dollar yacht and Feliks had not had the opportunity to reach this far into his curriculum: people who can buy your heart and have it for breakfast tomorrow on a whim.

As they made their way to the deck, Feliks scrambled desperately for what to criticize most about the way Arthur was approaching this job.

"Stop frowning. You should have a pleasantly submissive look on your face."

"What am I a hooker?" Arthur seemed very amused by Feliks' distress which was not helping the poor man.

"And shut up. They'll let you know if they want to hear you speak in any way shape or form. And never say more than they ask you to. Or less. And don't look them in the eye, find some point slightly above their ear to focus on. Unless they're not talking to you, then just look straight ahead."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's not like having money makes them better than us." Arthur said nonchalantly. Feliks froze dead in his tracks and gave Arthur a wide eyed look.

"Whatever you do, don't let them hear you say that." He whispers softly, fearing for his life.

* * *

"What the fuck do you mean the soup isn't done, we should have served that yesterday!"

Carlos was more than used to working with 'Kitchen Lovino' as he had been dubbed, but poor Tolys was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"And you, you son of a bitch, where the fuck is that wurst?"

Tolys whimpered, caught halfway between muttering and apology and pleading for mercy but Lovino was already off again. "Stop jabbering and get it done!"

Arthur slipped into the kitchen to trade out his tray. It was the only thing that could ever take Lovino out of his cooking focus. He stared warily at Arthur for the few moments he was intruding in the holy space of his kitchen and watched him go with a barely audible sigh of relief. The man was such a culinary disaster it was terrifying to have him in there.

Lovino turned back to what would shortly become his masterpiece of a paella. He tossed in the rice and couldn't help the small smile that pulled at the corner of his lips as he carefully stirred it in, the enticing smell of seafood floating freely around the kitchen.

His small smile turned into a small smirk as he looked around at the dishes Carlos and Tolys were serving. This was the closest to perfect he had seen in quite a long time.

Of course it couldn't last.

Years and years in kitchens had fine tuned Lovino's nose to detect even the faintest smell of burnt.

He whirled around on Carlos, who was muttering small curses under his breath as he drew out the soup.

Lovino's eyes lit aflame.

As soon as Carlos had put down the soup Lovino jumped on him grabbing the first available object, a hard wooden spoon Carlos had just used to stir the soup and breaking it over his head several times.

"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN THE SOUP?!"

Carlos tried ducking under his arms, which was futile because Lovino was livid, and livid Lovino always found an appropriate way to hurt you.

"Coño, deja eso!" Carlos shouted and Lovino finally stopped assaulting with the spoon just long enough for him to reach the nearest pan.

Carlos barely managed to catch his boss's wrist before he knocked him out cold. He tried leveling a look at him, though this resulted harder than he initially expected it to be because looking into his boss' eyes it was clear the Italian was ready to commit murder.

"These stupid gringos won't be able to tell the difference. It was on the stove for maybe thirty seconds too long."

Lovino snarled and stomped hard on Carlos' foot. The Cuban cursed loudly as he immediately let go of Lovino's wrist and hopped around on one foot for a good couple of seconds.

"One more time and I'm outta here!" Carlos threatened emptily, the same way he had the last 23 times. If Lovino heard or cared, it did not show.

"I should've known better than to trust you with something so important, you fucking disaster of a human being."

Carlos tried to find an appropriate comeback, but Lovino was too busy to argue with right now. He was scrambling around the kitchen for anything that could remedy the soup while going off about Carlos' mother in Italian and occasionally throwing something decently heavy aimed squarely for his face.

"_Non ci credo, che questo fottuto bastardo mi costerà il fottuto affitto._ How the hell are we even related?!" Lovino shot back over his shoulders as he tried a small sip of the soup and evaluated the spices before him to see what he could add to mask the taste of burnt.

"Hey, don't you go on about that shit! I'm your third cousin twice removed and I deserve to be treated as such!"

Tolys looked close to faint as Lovino picked up a knife and gave Carlos a meaningful look.

At that precise moment, Feliks and Arthur fell in through the door at the same time, Feliks looking slightly disheveled as he bent over, trying to regain his breath from running.

As Feliks' straightened up to asses the situation, he was met with Lovino's horrified stare. His stomach dropped to his shoes.

"Dinner was expected five minutes ago, what's going on?" Feliks said in a hurry as he glanced around. He found Carlos trying to blend in behind the refrigerator and gave a long suffering sigh.

He hurried over to help Lovino quickly make the decision. While they had a quick argument over the benefits of garlic in this situation, Arthur peered over the bowl. He gave it a quick whiff and with a shrug of his shoulder picked up a nearby discarded sugar jar, tilting most of its contents in.

Just as he put it down Lovino and Feliks returned with their decision in spice and herb and threw it in after which Lovino immediately sent the two waiters hurrying off to serve dinner.

Lovino inhaled deeply and breathed out heavily. He rubbed his hands over his face roughly for a couple of moments before snapping at Tolys still frozen in the corner.

"The soufflé ain't going to make itself. Hustle."

* * *

Feliks walked in after Arthur, and they served the soup and salad in unison. Feliks retreated some way back into the corner. Arthur stood close to him and softly mouthed: "What are we waiting for?"

Feliks made sure the guests were busy chatting over their plates before rolling his eyes and responding: "It's courtesy to wait until they've tried the food."

It was an informal affair between three friends. Two of the guest reached for the salad while the third, which Feliks had identified as the host and would later explain to Arthur how he could tell, reached for the soup with a certain excitement.

He poured himself quite a serving and settled down. "You know, I haven't had a good salmorejo since I went back to Spain for my birthday, the cooks here have no idea what to make of it." He commented offhandedly as he brought the first spoonful into his mouth.

He immediately spat it back out.

His friends stared at him before sharing a glance amongst themselves. The man snapped his head around to glare at Feliks who shrivelled up under his stare.

"This is absolutely disgusting." The man said, shoving the plate away from himself and rising to stand chest to chest to Feliks who turned paler than a sheet of paper.

"Who the hell made this?"

It took Feliks a moment to find his voice. "I believe the Sous-Chef was in charge of preparing tonight's soup."

"Bring me whoever's responsible for this atrocity."

Feliks nodded. "Right away, sir." He made it past the door with some shred of dignity before bolting to the kitchen like there was a seventy-five percent discount on all pumps. He collapsed through the kitchen's doorway, panting like a dog.

"The shit is wrong with you Feliks?" Lovino asked harshly while he shoved the base of his thumb into his mouth.

Feliks had half a moment to register that he had caused Lovino to burn himself before he was spouting off desperate pleads for mercy.

Lovino narrowed his eyes. "What happened?" He asked, his voice trembling only slightly.

"The soup!" Pant. "Disaster!" Pant. "Called for you." Pant, pant. Feliks managed to look at Lovino as the poor man saw his life flash before his eyes.

He quietly picked up his chef's hat and followed Feliks out the door as the Polish man tried hurriedly to fix himself up from his second time running below deck.

They walked into the cabin where the evening was taking place to find a stiff and uncomfortable Arthur trying to escape the prying questions of one of the guests, a French man who Feliks had noticed had had his eyes glued to his partner's ass the whole evening.

Feliks stepped away and crossed himself with a quiet murmur as he tried to think of happy thoughts.

Lovino stood before the table and locked eyes with the Spaniard, immediately recognizing him as the head honcho. A similar analysis must've gone through the other's head.

"Is there something wrong with the food?" Lovino asked impassively. The last thing he would do was give this asshole the impression that he was aware he had fucked up.

The man scoffed. "Is there something wrong with the food?" He spluttered incredulously. "Yes, there's something wrong with food! Who made this?"

Lovino set his jaw and stood a little straighter.

"My Sous-Chef. I was made aware he overcooked it somewhat. I attempted to remedy it through the means of some spices but if you find this unsatisfactory I'll remake it myself right away."

The man looked insulted. "You think I'd have you remake this awful thing? It's two thirds sugar!"

Lovino looked downright affronted by this claim. He reeled back with a disgusted look on his face. "What do you take me for, ah? No one in their right mind would put sugar in a-" His brain slammed on the brakes as it caught up with his mouth.

He turned very slowly to look at Arthur, who had a puzzled look on his face. Lovino's entire form tensed.

"Arthur Kirkland." He gritted out between his teeth, grinding his molars together in an effort to maintain his sanity.

"Did you touch anything in my kitchen?"

Arthur still looked confused. "I could've sworn the sugar would compliment the tomato." Arthur had barely finished the sentence by the time Lovino had grabbed the closest tray and sent it flying to his face with startling accuracy.

"_Sei un figlio di puttana, come ti permetti!"_

The other two guests didn't even blink before ducking under the table as Lovino grabbed the salad bowl and chucked it as well.

Arthur squeaked before trying to dodge. There was but one other tray which Lovino grabbed before stomping over. Arthur was cornered, trying to shrink in on himself as Lovino started hitting him with the tray.

"YOU! HAD! ONE! JOB!" With every syllable Arthur received a smack with the tray.

Antonio could only stare baffled as Arthur managed to grab a hold of Lovino's hair and yanked him off but not before having the tray rammed into his stomach. The Spaniard looked around, trying to locate the other waiter only to find him gone.

He swallowed. He did not want to be alone with those two.

Fortunately for Antonio it seemed Lovino was grasping at his sanity again, panting heavily as he gave Arthur a look that said absolute murder. Antonio saw him take a deep breath and begin to pull himself into a straighter position when the door was kicked open and a large dark skinned man threw a plateful of paella at the back of Lovino's head.

Antonio saw Lovino twitch for half a second before picking up the tray again and whirling around to assault the newcomer. Arthur saw this as his chance dived headfirst into the fray.

Feliks stood horrified in the doorway as he struggled to hold the fainting Tolys upright. "I brought you here to, like, pull them apart not join yourself!" He shrieked, ducking to avoid the ceramic plate that came flying his way.

Antonio was about to call for security when Lovino tumbled out of the fray, hair dripping in the awful soup that caused the whole damn mess.

When Carlos realized that Lovino had escaped he grabbed the pot with remaining soup and rushed to throw it on him. Lovino dropped to the floor just in time for Antonio to get a faceful off the stuff.

Carlos stared in shock at what he had done and seemed halfway to formulating an apology when Arthur, standing on his toes, reached around his neck and forced him into a headlock.

Carlos kicked around, crashing into the table, which rammed into Lovino and sent him sprawling forward taking Antonio down with him.

There was a moment as Lovino pushed himself up onto his elbows, his legs straddling the man's sides, in which he just stared down into the other's unbelievably handsome face beneath him, his wide impossibly green eyes and Meditarreanean features, before Lovino punched the Spaniard squarely in his perfectly sculpted jaw.

Antonio's friends who had been carefully viewing from under the table snickered and shared a high five before Feliks, who hadn't been able to slap Tolys back into consciousness reached down and pulled them both up by the scruffs of their necks.

"Help me!" Feliks spat with glare as he tried to get in between Arthur and Carlos still trying to pommel each other.

Francis and Gilbert seriously considered ducking back under the table but eventually they each grabbed hold of a cook and pulled as hard as they could. After a couple of tries in between the three of them they pulled them apart.

Arthur collapsed on top of the French bastard, who seemed pleased with this development, and Gilbert was nearly crushed under Carlos' weight.

Feliks huffed a breath before getting up to stop Lovino from murdering their host.

He grabbed a hold of his hair and yanked hard. One, two, three times and Lovino begrudgingly let himself be pulled off of the struggling Spaniard. Antonio lay there a couple of moments, eyes wide and startled before finally seeming to come to his senses.

"Get off my boat!" He shouted.

Reality poured over Lovino like an ice cold bucket of water.

"What?"

"Get out of here before I call security!"

Lovino gulped. He glanced around at the disaster they had made of the dining room, tomato soup and other bits of food splattered everywhere, including, impressively, parts of the ceiling, the broken plates, the ruined mantel pieces. He'd be lucky if he wasn't charged for assault. He should pack up and get the hell out of there right now without pushing his luck.

That is not what he did.

"But I'm still getting paid right?" He asked as carefully as he could.

Antonio snarled.

"Get. Out."

Lovino crossed his arms. "Make me."

And that's how Lovino and crew ended up swimming to the harbor near midnight with their containers floating about them, watching as the S.S. Carriedo sailed swiftly away.

A/N: Hello! I'm super nervous about finally publishing this, I've been working on this baby for almost a year and a half and it means a lot to me but I didn't want to start the school year without checking this off the to-do list. I meant to do it earlier this summer but that clearly didn't happen :) Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this first chapter, the next one will be up next Sunday. Hope you have a lovely week :)


	2. Chapter 2

Lovino arrived at his apartment building to find that, of course, the elevator had not been repaired yet. He glanced at the staircase and groaned loudly before beginning his thirteen-floor trudge upward.

By the time he reached the door of his apartment, he was pissed, tired, sore, sweaty, and somehow still dripping wet and freezing from his dip in the harbor. He just wanted to fall asleep somewhere beyond the door of his apartment and not be disturbed for a good couple eternities.

He yawned as he took out his keys and tried to fit the right one in the lock. After a couple of tries he pushed the door open, stumbled in and immediately ran into the couch that blocked the entrance. He was about to put his foot through the flimsy piece of furniture for good when he noticed Feliciano out of the corner of his eye.

He was seated at the tiny desk Lovino had managed to buy for him, working on a watercolor painting. Lovino felt something constrict painfully in his chest.

He took a deep breath and flopped over the couch, carefully making his way over to Feliciano through the cluttered mess of the apartment floor. The young boy had his small CD player beside him, quietly entoning some two hundred year old melancholic instrumental.

Lovino could never quite understand how it was that Feliciano managed to enjoy all of the things you'd least expect a ten year old boy to appreciate.

He came up behind the boy and peered over his head to see the painting. The scene depicted a sunset, viewed from an Italian gondola crossing the canals. Lovino actually recognized this particular sunset, an ancient picture of himself, back when he and his family still lived in Italy. It seemed no less than a thousand years ago.

Lovino placed his hand gently on Feliciano's shoulder, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Feliciano turned around with a bright smile and twinkling eyes as he cuddled up to Lovino.

"What are you doing up at this hour, Feli?" Lovino asked quietly, insistently pulling Feliciano away from the incomplete painting.

Feliciano, who was clearly exhausted by the hour, happily let himself be led. "Marcello said I could stay up to wait for you." He murmured packing up his brushes quickly, before chasing after Lovino who had already entered his room. Lovino grumbled quietly.

"You're only supposed to listen to what Marcello says if it doesn't sound like bullshit."

Lovino suddenly paused, realizing something. He peeked his head out of his bedroom door to glance around the small apartment, as if it would've been possible to miss the teen the first time around.

"Where's your brother?" He asked Feliciano, feeling he would not be happy with the answer.

"He went out." Feliciano said nonchalantly and Lovino tried not to blow several fuses. Just what he needed after tonight's disaster, to know that Marcello had left his ten year old brother alone in the apartment God knows how long ago with permission to stay up late.

Once they were in Lovino's room and Feliciano took the liberty of sitting himself at the bed while Lovino rummaged around his drawers for some pajamas.

Feliciano nodded, late in his response to Lovino's earlier admonishment. "I know, but you were so nervous about tonight, I thought you'd appreciate it." Feliciano turned to look at Lovino with an optimistic smile. "How'd it go?" He asked, with sweet innocent eyes.

Lovino sighed, leaning heavily on his drawers. "I think I can easily call tonight the biggest disaster of my life."

"Oh." Feliciano said quietly, his gaze dropping as a guilty look overtook his face.

Lovino stopped on his way walking out to caress Feliciano's face. Feliciano leaned against him. "Get to sleep, bambino."

Feliciano felt he wasn't entitled to question his father any further so without hesitation he buried himself under the covers and allowed sleep to carry him away nearly instantly.

* * *

The alarm blared loudly throughout the whole apartment. Lovino reached over, only fumbling twice before punching the snooze button. He rolled back into bed, only to almost crush Feliciano, who had taken the liberty of moving into the middle of the bed in the two and a half seconds it took Lovino to shut off the alarm.

"Move." Lovino said pushing on Feliciano's shoulder. Feliciano pretended to snore loudly and obnoxiously before breaking down into giggles. Lovino chuckled and wrapped him up in hug, trapping the boy in his arms as he slowly threatened to tickle him.

"No! No!" Feliciano shrieked with laughter, wholly enjoying himself as Lovino gave his best evil villain laugh and struggled to escape the range of Feliciano's flailing limbs.

It was only after Feliciano was tomato red and wheezing that Lovino let him go, to roll over and gasp for breath. Feliciano smacked Lovino's arm playfully.

"It hurts to smile!" He whined, despite grinning widely at his father.

With that there was a knock at the bedroom door and Marcello peeked in. "I made some breakfast." He chimes in.

Lovino, who has any and all grudges catalogued extensively to be called upon at even the happiest of times, grabbed his pillow and sent it Marcello's way.

Marcello squeaked and barely managed to dodge. "What was that for?" He whined. Feliciano had scrambled off at the mention of food and Lovino took the opportunity to smack Marcello upside the head.

Marcello grumbled quietly as he rubbed the spot and followed Lovino out to their 'kitchen'. In reality it was just a corner with a two burner stove and something that could pass for a functioning refrigerator if you squinted at the right angle.

"You know exactly what. The next time you leave Feli alone in the apartment I'm taking your keys and shoving them down your throat."

Marcello gulped uncomfortably.

The both of them joined Feliciano at their rickety little table and tried not to knock into each other too many times as they ate their food.

Marcello was the first to get up, claiming he was going to look for some part time work, though Lovino stopped believing that bullshit months ago.

"You're missing something." Lovino said loudly as Marcello tried sneaking off. Marcello threw his head back and groaned. Feliciano shoved the last couple of bites in his mouth and ran off to pick up his sketchbook and jacket.

He ran up to Marcello and gave his brother a bright smile. Marcello rolled his eyes and messed up Feliciano's hair playfully as he grabbed his keys off the hook and walked off with his brother in tow, to give him a ride to his weekend art classes.

Lovino sighed as he heard the door close and breathed deeply, trying to fill his lungs with as much air as possible. It wasn't working.

His brain had had plenty of time to calculate some conservative estimates for his losses yesterday and the results weren't going to compete for Miss Universe.

He bit his tongue to keep from screaming out in panic.

He set about washing the dishes quickly and gathered his things to leave. He resisted the urge to hit his head against the door as he locked up

Off to crush his dreams then.

* * *

"You're like, totally late." Feliks said as he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against.

"You try public transport any time?" Feliks immediately opened his mouth to respond but Lovino stopped him before he could speak.

"Recently?" He added, watching with a smirk as Feliks' face fell a bit.

"Well, I was just looking over our inventory to try and get a better perspective of our losses." Feliks began as Lovino threw his jacket into the corner and rubbed his hands together, pulling up his sleeves. Feliks rolled his eyes and pulled up a chair for himself.

"Well, our biggest loss is obviously not getting paid for the event." As he said this he pulled out their checkbook and his phone's calculator to start quantifying their despair.

"That alone puts us under…" He verifies the records of the money invested into the event, punched some numbers into his phone. "Three thousand dollars." He confirmed, voice filled with sarcastic glee.

Lovino nearly had a heart attack.

"What?" He barked. Feliks sighed. This always happened when squaring checkbooks. He flipped the records around so Lovino could see for himself.

"The cost of ingredients, labor, adding the fact that we owe Arthur and Tolys two paychecks _and"_ Feliks said loudly when he saw that Lovino was going to protest. "Deducting Carlos', yours and my paycheck. For the past three events."

Feliks angled a glare at Lovino, who had the decency to look somewhat sheepish.

"We add to that the fact that that payment was supposed to cover our debt on the rent, which sets back another twenty-five hundred and last but not least, I went over inventory while you took your sweet time getting here, and between all the cutlery, utensils and cookware we lost, being generous towards the offers you might be able to find to replace all of those that's…"

Feliks paused a moment to reconfirm with his calculator.

"Seven grand total."

Lovino balked.

Feliks sighed before his boss could open his mouth to speak.

"Yes, I ran the numbers four times. Yes, I accounted for every possible debt we could push back and _yes,"_ He glared. "I deducted all of our paychecks."

"Tolys' and Arthur's?" Lovino asked nervously.

Feliks shook his head in exasperation.

"It really doesn't make a dent." He said insistently.

Lovino began smacking his head onto the table. Feliks sighed and softened a bit seeing his friend in this state. It wasn't any easier on him. He walked over and put a hand on his shoulder caringly.

"I already tried brainstorming some solutions. We could sell the locale and hope it covers for its own debt, which would leave us at somewhere close to forty five hundred. If Carlos, you and I could take on an extra part time each, generous calculations could have us more or less up and running in about a month."

Feliks saw Lovino go perfectly still. He wasn't sure what to make of it but when Lovino pulled himself up to look at Feliks though, Feliks knew he should have been scared. Very scared.

His shoulders were slumped, the bags under his eyes seemed to engulf them and the light that always shone in his eyes, ready to challenge the world was frighteningly dim.

"Fuck it." He said softly.

Feliks reeled back.

"What?" He asked, trying to suppress his panic.

Lovino shot up from his chair and slammed his arms onto the table. He held it by the edges so hard Feliks could almost see the wood splintering underneath his fingers.

"I said fuck it! It's over, dannazione! Just send it all to hell!"

Lovino shuddered and, for a fraction of a second, Feliks thought he might break into tears. Instead he grabbed the table and slammed it several times into the floor, which made Feliks jump back and duck for cover.

Lovino went perfectly still again.

Feliks hesitated a moment before approaching. He wrapped his arms around Lovino in a tight hug.

"We'll get through this."

Lovino scoffed. "No we won't. You know that." But he returned the hug anyway, because Feliks was a pretty good hugger.

Feliks had to admit he was having a hard time seeing a way out of this. He sighed and turned on the radio for some background noise, sitting down to just hope they would come up with something before the end of the day.

Lovino plopped himself down as well, looking intensely at the wall.

Several minutes had passed before Lovino sprung up like a cork. Feliks whipped his head around so fast he hurt his neck.

"Ow." He whined, bringing a hand up to it but Lovino was shushing him.

"What?" Feliks asked quietly.

"Fucking shut up!" Was Lovino's answer as he cranked up the radio the highest it would go. Feliks paused to listen.

"Yes, dear viewers I am here live with the one of the nurses attending the case at Elk Cove's General Hospital; Miss, would you mind explaining the incident to us in some detail?"

A different woman's voice came from the small radio.

"Well, our only viable theories remain that he either fell from a boat sometime near dawn, or that he was out swimming in the early morning and the current took him away."

"Yes well, several sources are indicating that the man has amnesia and no recollection of who he is, can you confirm that?"

"As far as we can tell, yes. He's unable to answer basic questions about himself and insists he has no memory prior to waking up this morning. This was most probably due to the shock of the cold water or a possible head injury. We're imploring anyone with knowledge of the man's identity to call the hospital-"

"Excuse me, viewers, we've just gotten clearance from the hospital personnel to speak with the man himself."

Despite the other not having made a noise, Lovino shushed Feliks, who shushed back, now equally interested in the radio program. The shushing went on, escalating until they heard the reporters voice again and both immediately fell silent.

"Excuse me, sir, can you tell us your name?"

There was a long pause.

"My name is… I know it, it's…Ay, virgen, it's..."

Feliks started flapping around like a beached fish. He grabbed onto Lovino's arm like he was the one about to go overboard. Lovino slapped a hand over Feliks' mouth before he got it in his head to squeal.

"Get that thing away from me!" There was the sound of a thud and a brief interruption before the interviewer spoke again. She seemed ruffled, her voice tense.

"Well, dear viewers a reminder that anyone with knowledge of this man's identity is implored to contact the hospital and this has been Carol Smith, live from Elk Cove's General Hospital."

Lovino stared dumbfounded at the radio as it went into a commercial break. He was about to say something when Feliks threw his phone under his nose.

"It's him!" He shrieked, waving around a news report on the case, complete with a picture of a confused, very pissed looking Antonio Fernández Carriedo in a hospital gown.

Lovino could do nothing but stare.

"Oh my god, do you know what this means?!" Feliks shouted.

Lovino did not respond. The gears in his brain were slowly starting to turn as he began musing at the beginnings of an absolutely bat shit crazy plan that might just be the thing to save them all.

Feliks hadn't noticed this. "Maybe if we go down and tell him who he is he'll thank us by paying the money he owes us!"

Lovino laid his hand gently over Feliks' shoulders. Feliks stopped his rant and turned to look at Lovino, who was staring straight through the wall and into the divine.

"Or," He said softly.

Feliks frowned.

"Or?"

"Or," Lovino insisted. "We could not do that."

Feliks wondered whether Lovino had finally lost his marbles. "And what, let the man rot there? How is that going to solve our debt?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow at his right hand man.

"Tell me, Feliks, did Antonio seem like a particularly grateful person to you the last time we met?"

Feliks hesitated. "Well… no, but-"

"So then," Lovino immediately interrupted Feliks. "What do you think would happen if two nobody cooks who served him _Arthur_'s food, trashed his dining room and refused to leave afterward show up and tell him who he is?"

Feliks slumped his shoulders. "Okay so he's probably not going to pay us regardless. Still, we have to go inform the hospital-"

"_Or," _

Feliks was getting kind of sick of Lovino saying that like it was some invocation for the patron saint of failing catering businesses.

"Or what?!"

Lovino gave his friend a wicked smile.

"Instead of informing the hospital they have Antonio Carriedo the millionaire in their care, we could just go pick up Antonio Vargas, my lovely slave of a husband."

The idea was so insane, Feliks didn't even understand what Lovino was saying for a moment. And then his jaw dropped.

"Are you out of your pasta loving mind?!" Feliks shrieked, jumping away from his friend. "Do you have any idea how many kinds of illegal that is!?"

But Lovino gave Feliks a hard look.

"You said generous estimates have us up in about a month. That means you discounted the part of our paychecks that need to go towards our livelihood, and that plan only works if we sell this place."

Before Feliks could try protesting, Lovino went on.

"Now think about it. I take Antonio home, he works four part time jobs and helps me keep my house running so I can do the same. With four people pouring cash into this we pay off the whole seven grand in…"

Feliks stared back at Lovino as he trailed off and gave Feliks his cue. Feliks sighed and tilted his head back as he considered the numbers. His face grew more and more pensive by the second.

"Times fifty… carry the three, plus our 25 hundred."

Feliks eyes widened.

"The whole seven grand in less than two months." He said softly, turning to look at Lovino in astonishment.

Lovino took a stage bow. "I rest my goddamn case." He said as he extended his hand. Feliks raised an eyebrow at this. Lovino sighed.

"Your phone, please, I couldn't pay my bill this month." Feliks rolled his eyes and handed it over.

Lovino punched in some numbers and waited for an answer.

"Hey, whassup, mano? It wouldn't happen to be my paycheck would it?" Feliks could hear Carlos' voice clearly, even several feet away.

"Even better. You still faking documents?"

Carlos scoffed.

"Who do you take me for, ah? I'm a good and proper American citizen under the eyes of God and the law now, I don't do that shit no more."

A pause.

"Wha' chu need?"

When Lovino got off the phone with Carlos he tossed it back at Feliks, who complained that if Lovino broke his bedazzled cover he'd be paying for it.

"Call Arthur and Tolys and swear them into secrecy. I've got a husband to pick up."

Lovino walked out the door with a bounce in his step that Feliks hadn't seen in years. He sighed. If you're going to do something illegal, do it right.

"Liet, sugar, we've got a situation on our hands."

A/N: Three days into class and school's already kicking my ass. Ha, that rhymed. Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you have a lovely week and see you next Sunday.


	3. Chapter 3

Lovino walked up to the receptionist's desk. He had no idea what someone who's looking for their lost husband should act like and he didn't really care.

"I'm here to pick up my husband, the man with amnesia."

The receptionist lifted her gaze from the form he was reviewing, her eyes wide as she saw Jesus were Lovino stood.

"Really?" She asked, somewhat desperately.

Lovino tried not to be weirded out. "Yes." He said slowly.

Her shoulders slumped forward in relief for a second. Then she popped right back up and grabbed a cord phone hanging on the wall beside her desk, the intercom sounding throughout the building.

"Doctor Jones, someone's here about Patient X."

The entire hospital stopped and took a collective sigh of relief as they heard those words. Lovino glanced around. Some old dude was actually busting a jig right there and then.

Alright then.

Doctor Jones turned out to be a tall, boisterous blonde man who, like everybody else, seemed eternally grateful of Lovino's claim to be the mystery man's husband. Lovino followed the doctor as he led him down several hallways.

"I gotta tell you, I'm so glad you came to take him off our hands." Dr. Jones, Alfred as he had insisted Lovino call him, blabbered on loudly as they reached the hall in which the bastard's room was located.

"I must warn you, though, Mr. Vargas, you husband has no recollection of himself or his past. The experience has been pretty traumatic and disorienting for him so he's been… well aggressive, to say the least. We're hoping that seeing you might trigger his memories, but we know nothing for certain. The memory loss might even be permanent."

Alfred seemed to be expecting some kind of outraged or distraught reaction from Lovino, who only scoffed. "Oh, he'll remember, if he knows what's good for him."

This seemed to be enough for Alfred who knocked on a door, from which the sounds of an argument could be heard.

"You can't possibly call that food! I wouldn't feed that to my dog!"

"You don't even know if you have a dog!"

"Where did the prettier nurse go? She said she was going to get me new pillows."

Alfred nervously indicated for Lovino to take a peek through the window on the door.

Lovino glanced in and saw Antonio was threatening to throw his omelette at the nurse, who looked quite ready to strangle him.

The blond gave him a worried look. "Is this your husband?" He asked.

"That's him alright."

Alfred threw his head back and breathed out heavily, the words 'Thank God!' coming out in a small groan. He turned and told Lovino to wait outside while he informed Antonio that he was here.

"Good news, Ms. Bella." Alfred said as he walked into the room, his voice somewhat tense as he saw Antonio breathe in deeply in preparation to shout at him again about being kept here against his will and the lawyers he would sic on him as soon as he got his hand on a phone.

"Someone has come to pick up our favorite patient. You may go take your break."

The nurse wasted no time in running out. She brushed by Lovino at the door and gave him a calculating once over.

"You here for him?"

"Unfortunately." He said giving the woman a crooked smirk. She returned it.

"Good luck, soldier." She said with a sarcastic salute and with that she was off.

Lovino leaned closer to the door to hear what Dr. Jones was telling Antonio.

"That's great news isn't it? Your spouse just came in to pick you up." Alfred said.

"Took 'em long enough."

Lovino had just enough time to wonder what the heck Antonio meant by that, before he peeked past the door frame in time to see Antonio do a double take.

"Wait, I'm married?"

Alfred clicked his tongue as he shot off a couple of finger guns and opened the door as Lovino came in.

For a moment the two men simply stared at each other in challenge, Lovino's eyes daring Antonio to refute him as Antonio ran a calculating look over Lovino.

"I'm not gay!" Antonio finally shouted. "Even if I was, I definitely wouldn't be married to that. Get him out of here. Shoo."

Alfred gave Lovino a sympathetic look.

"Yeah, we were afraid this could happen. Did you bring the documents I requested?"

Lovino nodded as he walked over to Antonio's bedside and proceeded to smack him upside the head with the yellow manila folder Carlos had given him, with everything from the falsified marriage papers to some well photoshopped wedding pictures.

"Why are you assaulting me?" Antonio exclaimed, trying to hide under his arms.

"You're gay enough to shit rainbows, Antonio." Lovino said giving Antonio a knowing look. The Spaniard was about to respond when he suddenly froze looking at Lovino with wide eyes.

"That's my name." He said breathlessly.

"Aw, and he can recognize his own name too. Well, now you know I didn't marry him for his brains, Doctor."

Alfred chuckled quietly to himself.

Antonio looked at Lovino intensely.

"I don't know you." He insisted, but his voice wavered with doubt. Lovino smirked.

"I'm sure you don't. You also don't know our marriage papers, or your birth certificate or our wedding photos either, right?" He said as he waved them around in front of Antonio's face. Antonio's eyes widened and he snatched the documents out of Lovino's hands, scanning over them quickly.

He stopped to inspect the supposed wedding photo.

Lovino had to give Carlos kudos for that one. They stood in front of a small church, framed by a simple floral archway, Antonio holding Lovino's hand with a bright smile on his face that had been pulled straight out of a magazine cover. It had taken quite a bit of album diving before they managed to find a picture where Lovino was smiling without Feliciano in his arms, but they settled on one where his lips weren't a completely straight line and his eyes twinkled somewhat.

He looked up at Lovino, confused and maybe even a little scared. But then he shook his head and cast the documents aside turning to accost Lovino with questions.

"How long have we been together?"

"Four years."

"Where did we meet?"

"My first catering event."

"What's your last name?"

Lovino smirked.

"Vargas."

Antonio gave him a look like he wasn't interested in games. "Before you married me."

The smirk turned into a Cheshire grin.

"Var. Gas."

Antonio set his jaw. "I don't remember any of this, I'm not married to a man and I don't know you!" He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. "And I wouldn't change my last name for you, either!" He burst out after a pause.

Alfred who was watching the whole thing go down with interest whistled loudly, turning to address Antonio.

"You know I'm legally allowed to fork you over even if you don't recognize him, right? He has all the documents required."

Antonio gave Alfred an outraged look. "He could be some psychopath off the street!" Antonio exclaimed. Alfred raised his eyebrows.

"And the wedding photos?"

Antonio just stared helplessly. "You can't… I don't believe it! You have no proof."

He pouted like a petulant child, turning his head away sharply and wincing almost unnoticeably as his jaw knocked into his shoulder.

A truly evil smile crept over Lovino's face but he managed to suppress it just in time.

"You jaw is sore." He said simply.

Both Antonio and Alfred looked at him like he was crazy.

"How did you know that? And what does that have to do with you not being my husband?"

"Your jaw is sore because before your drunkass threw itself into the harbor, you got into a fight with our neighbor. You gave him a black eye and he returned the favor by trying to dislocate your jaw."

Antonio hesitated.

"I did?"

"You did. Now move your ass, we're late to pick up Feliciano."

* * *

Antonio was signed off the hospital and forced, at least temporarily, to come to terms with the fact that this rude insensitive prick driving the car he was in might actually be his husband.

If Antonio had been under the impression that Lovino had any kind of personality back at the hospital he had been incorrect. More accurately, Lovino was a grape that had been left out way too long to sour and that Antonio could find no way of going about eating it.

He sat quietly glaring out the window after his attempts to start a conversation had been shot down twice. He was overwhelmed and the least his supposed husband could do is have mercy on his confusion.

Lovino was not looking to be the merciful type though.

"Where are we going?" Antonio muttered darkly.

"I already told you, we're picking up Feliciano."

"Who's Feliciano?" Antonio said in exasperation, turning to look at Lovino. Lovino gave him his default 'you're a dumbass' look.

"Our son."

Antonio choked on thin air. "I have a kid?!"

"You have two kids. Now shut the hell up, I'm tired of hearing you whining."

Antonio shuddered. This could not be.

They finally pulled into the parking lot of a large and costly looking arts academy. Antonio peered out the window in interest. Well, at least they appeared to be pretty comfortable in the money department it seemed.

"Feli's been worried out of his mind so you get to work finding a better excuse for keeping him up for three days straight than: 'I'm a raging alcoholic with no self control.'"

Antonio paused.

"I'm an alcoholic?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Not anymore you're not, next time you touch a bottle I'm gonna shove it up your ass."

And with that there was a small, copper haired child knocking on Antonio's window jumping up and down with a grin.

Lovino smirked to himself. Among the rest of his artistic talents, Feliciano had a knack for acting. It could be infuriating when the little shit was trying to lie to you, but it happened to be very handy when you asked him to pretend a stranger was his father.

Antonio tried to recognize this ball of giddy excitement at the window as his own, he truly did. He gave Lovino a despairing look.

"He's mine?" He asked.

"He's mine. You came into the picture after them."

And then Lovino slapped him upside the head. Antonio glared at him.

"Now get out the fucking car and great your goddamn son."

Antonio really didn't want to, but judging from Lovino's glare he was at risk of getting smacked again if he didn't. So, hesitantly, he unlocked his door and pushed it open.

The kid immediately launched himself at his middle with a cheer of: "Papi!"

The arms wrapped around him tightened. Antonio tried not to tense under his embrace as he patted the top of the child's head awkwardly.

When the kid finally pulled away his face was bright, his eyes wide and shining as he gave Antonio the most adoring look he had ever received.

Granted, the only people he remembered looking at him were Alfred and Lovino and neither seemed to harbor much love for him.

Still it clashed with Antonio enough to get his mind to stop its rampant attempts to find a viable escape route and for a moment he simply let himself stare down at this little boy.

His… son.

He hurried to get back in the car.

Feliciano scrambled into the back seat and began rambling to Lovino in Italian which made Antonio a bit dizzy.

"_He's even prettier in person, huh, Papà?"_

Lovino glanced at Feliciano through the rearview with a smile.

"_And just as much of an asshole as he was last I saw him. Good job with the reunion by the way, you earned that ice cream later."_

"Something about ice cream." Antonio said loudly, clearly annoyed at the fact that he could not follow the conversation very well.

Feliciano laughed joyously, before speaking to Antonio in English.

"Papà said we could celebrate your return with ice cream."

"Joy." Antonio said in a flat tone, leaning against the window.

* * *

Antonio had a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as they drove on. Somehow they kept passing the roads that led to the lovely, well-kept, family friendly suburbs and wound closer and closer with each passing second to more unpleasant and unsavory parts of town.

Just as he was ready to make the absolutely foolish suggestion that perhaps Lovino was lost on his way to a home Antonio had no memory of ever seeing they pulled up to an apartment complex.

Antonio's stomach dropped to his shoes.

"No." He said eyes wide in horror, but neither Lovino nor Feliciano seemed to pay him any mind as they parked on a side road a short way away.

Lovino climbed out of the car and held Feliciano's door open for him as he bounced out of the car. Antonio heard the door slam and saw through the rearview as Lovino and Feliciano began walking off. He scrambled to get out of the car and chase them down.

"We can't possibly live here!" Antonio said desperately, gesturing wildly to the cracked pavement, the peeling paint. At that very moment, several stories up a resident's window broke and the piece came flying down, Antonio barely jumping out of the way in time. Lovino threw a glance back at him and then turned to speak to Feliciano.

"Can you imagine how wonderful it must feel to forget you're broke as shit?"

Feliciano's laugh rang loud and clear through the dirty streets and it cemented Antonio's fears.

He followed the pair dejectedly into the lobby passing by the communal laundry from where the sounds of ladies talking smack could be heard.

When Antonio stopped to punch the elevator button Feliciano almost fell over with laughter and even Lovino was chuckling. Antonio's shoulders slumped forward. He had a feeling.

And so the trio headed towards the maintenance stairs and began climbing.

And climbing.

And climbing.

By the time they got to the fifth floor Antonio thought he might collapse.

"What floor do we live on?" He growled at the back of Lovino and Feliciano's head, who were nearly half a floor above him and completely unfazed.

"Lucky number thirteen!" Lovino called down with biting sarcasm.

Antonio was sure he was going to die.

By the time he had dragged himself all the way to the thirteenth floor, Lovino and Feliciano were preparing to cook dinner. And perhaps Antonio could've devoted more attention to that if he wasn't busy tripping over the sofa and nearly breaking his face against the floor

"Que carajo hace un sofá en la entrada?!" He yelled as he scrambled around to put his legs under himself and kicked at the sofa in spite.

"No hay donde más ponerlo." Antonio snapped his head around to see Feliciano idly filling a pot with water.

"He speaks Spanish?" He asked incredulously, glancing at Lovino.

"And French and Portuguese and Latin and, obviously, Italian."

"And Luddy's helping me learn German." Feliciano supplied cheerfully.

"I already told you I don't want you near that potato bastard. And don't call him Luddy, it's creepy, the son of a bitch is two heads taller than you."

Was Antonio supposed to understand any of what was going on?

But he suddenly had an entirely different matter to think of.

He finally stopped long enough to actually take in his surroundings.

God, no.

If the whole thing was over a hundred square feet Antonio would eat his shoe.

Lovino and Feliciano were dancing expertly around each other in the foot of counter space available to the both of them, clearly at ease in the space, or more accurately, the lack of one.

Antonio was less than ten feet from them and in between lay a cluttered mess of clothes and objects ranging from scattered art supplies, to clothes, to a truly astonishing assortment of small instruments, to broken pieces of what might've been a piece of furniture once. There was tiny table that could barely accommodate two people comfortably and the couch he had tripped over was functioning as more of a communal storage unit than anything else.

There were but two doors, one adjacent to the small entryway just before the couch and the other on the opposite side.

It was open and showed what must've been the smallest bedroom in existence, with barely enough space for the tiny bed tucked in the corner; equally cluttered as the living room.

Antonio was just about to search for a window large enough to throw himself out of when the door burst open behind him.

"I bring the cream of ice!"

A teenage boy with hair even brighter than Feliciano's came barreling through the entrance, rolling expertly over the couch and springing up, waving around two grocery bags and almost trampling Antonio on his way.

He slammed them down on the table, which groaned from the force and threatened to collapse, and then stood straight, tossing his disheveled hair away from his face.

His eyes were as coppery as his hair, with a certain amusement shining in them like he knew some remarkably sly thing that you didn't. He held himself confidently and when he finally turned back to notice Antonio he smirked lopsidedly.

"Hey, Dad. Glad to see your back from you dip in the harbor."

Antonio went back to searching for that window.

A/N: When I wake up with the panicked realization that it's time to upload the third chapter and I still haven't finished wiriting the seventh so I do the entire thing in one sitting at two in the morning. Well anyways, I hope you liked this chapter and I hope to see you next week, if I haven't already drowned in schoolwork.


	4. Chapter 4

Antonio smirked at the scene before him. He stood high on the bow of a yacht, its lights glittering along with the stars' on the tiny waves far below. On the highest deck was blazing party that pulsed with fast tempo Spanish music. People danced animatedly or milled around the tables drinking and eating to their hearts' content.

Beside him stood a handsome French man, with blond hair that reached his shoulders and blue eyes that sparkled, in an expensive suit, attempting to hide his own smirk behind a wine glass. Antonio couldn't put his finger on it but he was very familiar and the Spaniard found himself thoroughly enjoying the stranger's company.

The man hummed quietly. "And there goes Gilbert." He murmurs amusedly, in a heavy French accent. He was referring to a man on the deck below, who had just charged onto the dance floor with a stein in each hand as the music changed to more pop-y tunes. Antonio found this far more amusing than it really seemed and he briefly wonder why.

He turned back to the blond man hoping to share his amusement but he found that he was no longer there.

Instead he was greeted by Carlos' large and angry face right up in his own.

"Que dejes de pensar en pajaritos preñaos, que vas a quemar el pan!"

Antonio cringed away from the man's barking voice, hurrying to pull the breadsticks out of the oven and tried his very hardest to focus on the present, to not let his mind wander.

It was incredibly difficult, especially when he looked down at his hands and he wasn't a hundred percent certain they were real.

That _dream_ had felt real, insanely so, and he couldn't stop thinking about it for the life of him, even if it had already been nearly a week.

Antonio just about crashed into the wall, the force of this realization almost enough to make his knees buckle.

_It had been nearly a week._

Nearly a week since he woke up feeling like he must've drank an entire bar's supplies in order to merit the ungodly hangover he had. A week since he came into the world, practically speaking, what with the complete and utter blank he'd been drawing on anything before that.

Except for that dream.

He'd had it the first night back at his apartment (he could almost say that phrase without feeling nauseous now) and he'd just been so sure, so absolutely sure it had been real, that waking up was like falling into a dream.

He moved through his days as if he were in slumber, numb to it all as he tried to process it, latched onto the idea that the dream was real, goddamnit it had to be, it…

But with every day that passed Antonio lost whatever insane faith he had found that morning. Everytime he replayed the dream in his head it lost focus until he was left staring at an empty wall and he had to admit this was his life.

His jobs.

His home.

His kids.

His... husband.

And he was so close, so close to just accepting but he needed… he needed…

He didn't know what he needed but he knew it was only a matter of time before he resigned himself to his fate, and maybe, just maybe, it might actually make him a little bit happier.

His shift was over shortly after that and Feliks came to pick him up and take him to his fourth and final shift of the day as a janitor in a small office building owned by one of Arthur's brother's. At least it was almost always empty around this time, so Antonio would be at liberty to stew in his half formed thoughts.

* * *

Antonio crashed heavily onto his couch, biting his lip to keep from groaning loudly and waking anyone up. He'd been scolded enough the first time he did that.

He'd done overtime for the third day in a row and he was dead tired. Not for the first time, he cursed the stupid uncomfortable couch he was forced to sleep on and thought longingly of the only bed in the apartment, which Lovino shared with Feliciano.

Antonio still didn't understand why he apparently never slept in the same bed with his husband.

His stomach grumbled and this time he hid his groan by shoving his face into the poorly stuffed couch cushions as he debated whether it was really worth it to get off his ass and find food. There were probably leftovers from dinner but he could never be sure. If Feliciano looked like he was still hungry he'd be fed Antonio's plate, without hesitation from Lovino's part.

Just as he was about to decide to doze off on an empty stomach, said organ protested once more and with a quiet whine he dragged himself out of bed and over to the fridge where he was overjoyed to find that yes, there were leftovers for him. He was just about to mindlessly pull off the lid to the container and eat it cold when he suddenly saw the post it note on top.

_Para Papi 3_

It was written in small, neat cursive lettering and Antonio immediately knew the note had been left by Feliciano, the only other person in the household who spoke Spanish.

He stared at it, almost as if he couldn't believe it was really there. He tried to swallow against the lump in his throat at the fact that he couldn't even remember anything about this boy who called him father.

He slumped into a chair, cringing immediately at the way it creaked and cast furtive glances at the doors to Lovino's and Marcello's rooms but neither opened to reveal a disgruntled Italian.

He ate his food in the quiet darkness before crawling back into his couch and trying to get some rest.

* * *

"How… how old is Feliciano?"

Lovino stared at him weirdly a moment before turning back to the checkbook he was examining.

"He'll be 11 next month."

It wasn't often that Lovino and Antonio were alone in the apartment, what with Antonio arriving after the entire building was asleep half the time and Feliciano and Marcello being so omnipresent at any other given moment, so the Spaniard was glad to have this opportunity to speak with Lovino. He felt awkward and uncomfortable but he wasn't sure if it was because of what he wanted to ask or what he thought the answer might be.

"Why don't you kiss me?"

Now Lovino really looked at him like he'd gone insane. Antonio held his ground though, somehow reassured by the unusual response.

"We've been married four years, apparently, and yet it's been almost two weeks since I came back and you haven't made any attempt to be intimate with me." The tail end of his sentence made Antonio's face heat up and he really hoped Lovino couldn't tell.

Lovino raised an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. "Does it look like I have the time to be intimate with you?" It did nothing to settle or soothe Antonio.

"You never even ask about my day or anything. You just send me off to work four jobs at the crack ass of dawn and force me to sleep on a stupid couch, you don't even try to make me feel normal in my own life."

Lovino rolled his eyes.

"May I remind you whose fault it is that you lost your memories?"

Antonio flinched away at those words and the way Lovino suddenly narrowed his eyes angrily.

"And you complain about me doing nothing but it took you this long to ask your son's age, forgive me if I get the impression that you no longer give a crap about us."

Antonio swallowed harshly but he did not have an appropriate response. Did he care for these people he didn't know or did he just want to feel comfortable in his own skin again? It was surprisingly hard to tell.

* * *

Antonio had been staring emptily at the ceiling for nearly half an hour before he realized he couldn't sleep, which seemed an odd problem to have after working sixteen consecutive hours.

He felt uneasy and he wasn't sure why. He sat up and gazed across the room again, maybe for the twentieth time, and sighed heavily. He didn't know what he was looking for, he knew very well the room wasn't going to change.

"Are you ever going to sleep or are you just going to sit there for the next four hours?"

Antonio started, almost violently, scared shitless for a fraction of a second before he realized it was just Lovino, scowling at him from the doorframe of his room. Antonio breathed in deeply and then let it out slowly.

Maybe it was because it was dark, or maybe Antonio was looking for any kind of affection from the man he didn't remember marrying, but it seemed that Lovino wasn't putting quite as much venom into his glare as he usually did.

"I'm sorry." Antonio said quietly, feeling almost unsettled at how much he really did mean it. He felt awful about anything he did wrong to Lovino after the conversation they'd had a couple of days ago.

Lovino just stared back at him before sighing and pushing himself off the doorframe. He pulled the door closed behind him, slowly turning the knob in its place to keep from waking Feliciano. He made his way over to the kitchen and began filling a small pot with water.

Antonio had a quick internal debate with himself before getting up to follow him. He sat down at the tiny table they all shared and watched as Lovino set the pot on the stove.

He reclined against the counter and closed his eyes, breathing evenly. Antonio wasn't sure what to say, but he wanted to say something. Anything.

Instead he watched the water as it slowly, ever so slowly came to a boil.

Lovino took it off the stove before that though, reaching up to open the cabinet door, careful to hold it as he did so for one of the hinges was broken and the other on its way. Antonio had learned that the hard way. He brought down a mug, which he poured the water into slowly.

Antonio suddenly felt uncomfortably like he couldn't fill his lungs.

He kept staring at Lovino, with the distinct feeling that the man was in an entirely different plane of reality and Antonio was utterly alone in every sense of the word.

Lovino pulled open a different cabinet and brought out a small box of tea bags of which he selected one and placed into the mug, which remained on the counter as he cleaned up, waiting for it to steep.

Antonio didn't know what to do with himself he really didn't, nothing had felt right since waking up but suddenly this was more than he could bear, this…

"Why would I marry a man who doesn't love me?"

He hadn't even realized he'd spoken aloud until Lovino stilled.

When he turned around his olive green eyes were impassive, staring at Antonio in a way that made the Spaniard feel like he was seeing straight into his soul.

"What makes you think I don't love you?"

Antonio couldn't breathe.

And then Lovino was walking away after having placed the mug before Antonio on the table.

"Chamomile." He called back quietly as he reached his door. "It should help put you to sleep."

The door made a very quiet thud against its frame.

The thud of Antonio's head against the table was just as silent.

* * *

And so the days progressed and turned into weeks and Antonio continued to spiral into his own guilt, watching his family and feeling them grow apart from him. He wondered what it would feel like to come home and have Feliciano hug him, or Marcello crack a joke about the bags under his eyes, or even have Lovino scowl at him slightly less furiously.

By the time he realized that was all he wanted, it was too late.

Feliciano had tried to hug him at first but Antonio had not responded well and although the boy occasionally glanced over his shoulder like he wanted to talk to Antonio he always thought better of it.

The same went for Marcello, who had initially tried to chat amiably with Antonio before the Spaniard snapped at him. He barely spares a glance his way anymore.

And Lovino…

Antonio had to assume Lovino was upset at how he was treating his kids. Their kids, they were _their _kids, God Antonio had fucked up. And for what? A stupid dream he could barely even remember anymore.

He needed to fix this.

* * *

It was Saturday morning and miraculously, none of his jobs were calling him in. He had planned on spending the entire day face planted in the couch dozing away to his heart's content. This plan was unfortunately thrown out the window when Antonio was abruptly woken up by angry shouting.

He shot straight up and looked around wildly, his disorientation making him take a few seconds to locate the source.

Lovino and Marcello were having an argument. And by the looks of it it was _bad._

Antonio, who could barely understand Italian on a good day, hadn't the slightest clue what was being said, but what he did know was that both men were furious, shouting over each other hands flying everywhere, hitting and knocking over nearby objects every other moment.

It was a couple of moments before Antonio noticed Feliciano hiding behind the door to his and Lovino's room, eyes wide and startled and it left Antonio wondering what the argument was about.

He knew that Marcello was a slightly rebellious teen and that Lovino didn't take kindly to it in some occasions, he'd pieced together at least that much from passing remarks and the like, but nothing even remotely similar had occurred and it left him very confused as he watched them point accusatory fingers at each other and slap their hands away.

And then Marcello was walking away with Lovino hollering after him as he stomped over to the exit, barreling into the couch and messily scrambling over it, nearly kicking Antonio in the face.

Lovino tried to call him back one more time before Marcello slammed the door so hard one of the long suffering hinges finally broke and the thing swung open a couple of inches hanging on by the last pathetic string.

Lovino stood there, panting, shaking with fury. Antonio could see him biting his lip hard, barely restraining himself. And then he was grumbling under his breath, the sound getting quicker and louder as he worked himself up into another fit.

And then Feliciano closed the door behind him a little too suddenly and Lovino whipped his head around to see his son trying to escape the room. The rage instantly melted off him, leaving only severe annoyance in its place.

"What, Feli?" He asked, his tone rougher than it ever was when it was directed at Feliciano. Feliciano gave a tiny squeak, shrinking into his shoulders, hiding behind his sketchpad. When Lovino's eyes landed on the notebook he let out an exhausted sigh.

"I'll call to have Feliks take you." He said, and Antonio saw his opening.

"I can take him!" He said as he hurriedly scrambled out of the couch.

Lovino gave him a confused look, almost like he'd forgotten Antonio was there. "On your day off?" His tone was disbelieving and a little condescending.

"Yes, Lovino. On my day off." He wasn't sure what he was trying to prove by taking Feliciano to his art classes but he wasn't backing down. He and Lovino battled it out with silent glares for a few seconds before Lovino relented.

"Keys are in the bowl on the shelf, I expect him back in one piece."

Antonio was so surprised to have actually won he didn't move for a few seconds but Feliciano quickly took charge and began insistently leading Antonio out of the apartment, standing on his tiptoes to reach the shelf by the door that had the keys and pushing Antonio out the door, trying to close it as best he could behind him.

The drive was initially a little quiet and awkward but Antonio had a lot he wanted to say to Feliciano and he wasn't going to waste this opportunity. But first,

"What were Lovino and Marcello arguing about?"

Feliciano flinched a bit but Antonio couldn't tell if it was because of his voice or the question. He took a moment before answering.

"Um… Papà found out that Marcello's failing three classes."

Antonio almost crashed the car.

"That he what!?"

Feliciano nodded slowly.

"Yeah, and he's been skipping a lot and he might even have to repeat the grade if he doesn't pull himself together. Lovino was going off about that and then Marcello said that Lovino's never cared about him unless he's doing something wrong so Lovino went absolutely ballistic, and then he brought up Peter-" Feliciano abruptly cut himself off.

"Who's Peter?" Antonio asked.

Feliciano breathed out slowly between his teeth. "It'd probably be best if Marcello or Lovino tells you that."

"Are they likely to?"

Feliciano paused, began to nod, then quickly shook his head. "No, probably not."

"So then?"

Feliciano hesitated a few long moments before slowly mumbling something out that Antonio couldn't catch.

"What was that?"

Feliciano took a deep breath before blurting it out.

"Peter is Marcello's boyfriend, but he's fourteen."

The driver behind them laid on the horn as Antonio slammed the breaks and swerved into the right most lane.

He stared ahead at the road, watching the angry driver pass by before whirling around to face Feliciano. "He what?"

Feliciano looked like he regretted telling him.

Antonio put his face in his hands and breathed deeply. What the fuck was his life?

"I'm sorry." He pushed out as he ran his hands roughly over his face and then through his hair. He let out a deep sigh. "Sorry." He said again, and he started the car again, pulling away from the spot.

"No reason to get mad at you, you're just the messenger. _Jesucristo, que yo voy a hacer con mi vida?_"

Feliciano licked his lips before quietly answering, _"No sé. La próxima bocacalle."_

Antonio was so surprised to hear Spanish again he almost missed the turn.

Well, now or never, he thought as he began to pull into the parking lot of the school. He grips the wheel tightly as Feliciano gathers his things

"Look I know that… this hasn't only been hard for me, and that I haven't exactly made things any easier on you guys. But you're still my family. And I'm sorry if I've hurt you."

He paused.

"_Te quiero."_

The words don't sound as alien as he thought they would and when he turns Feliciano is smiling bright and large, so large his eyes are nearly shut. He throws himself over the middle of the seat and hugs Antonio fiercely.

"I love you too, Papi."

* * *

When they got back home, Feliciano told Antonio he'd be going to visit his friend who lived a couple of stories up and left him to enter the apartment on his own.

Antonio was at least partially glad. It wasn't often that he and Lovino were alone in the apartment without the company of either of their sons and he wanted to talk to Lovino.

The Italian was locked in his room, and when Antonio knocked on the door, he did not get a response for a long moment. And then the door was pulled open to reveal a very rumpled looking Lovino who had clearly been taking a nap.

"What?" He grumbled. For the first time, Antonio found Lovino's anger endearing rather than terrifying. He really couldn't pull it off with his hair stuck in every direction and pillow marks on his cheek.

"Just wanted to talk."

Lovino groaned under his breath before pulling the door open and going back to flop on the bed. Antonio only waited a second before following him and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I talked to Feliciano." Antonio began. He couldn't see Lovino's face from where he was but he heard the muffled sound of Lovino humming in recognition.

"About the argument today."

That got Lovino up quick. He was sitting up across from Antonio and glaring in about two seconds flat. The sleep was wearing off so it wasn't nearly as charming as it had been mere moments ago. Antonio held up his hands in a sign of surrender that threw Lovino off just long enough that Antonio managed to continue speaking without interruption.

"And I know that you think I don't care. But I do, though. I can feel it whenever I'm with you, even if I don't remember, I can feel how much I miss you. I care about you. I know none of this has been easy and it's nearly all my fault but… I just want my life back. I want our lives back."

Lovino sat there staring at Antonio for the longest time.

"Okay." He said softly under his breath.

A/N: I almost posted this on Tuesday cause I was absolutely terrified that the hurricane that was gonna pass by on Wednesday would make the power go out, but I'm really glad I didn't because that was a lot of panic for a whole lot of nothing. Hopefully it continues to be nothing as it makes its way to the mainland. Anywho, hopefully you enjoyed this week's chapter and hopefully you'll be back next week.


	5. Chapter 5

The weeks following are so much gloriously better that they nearly bring Antonio to tears. Lovino suggests he does a little less overtime and it means he can occasionally come back in time for dinner. If not, at the very least people are still awake by the time he arrives.

He talks to Feliciano the most because he's the most willing to fill Antonio in about the past and there's so much that Antonio wants to know. Antonio often sits beside him as he works on a sketch, chattering incessantly about some of Lovino's catering events they were allowed to attend, how they always help Lovino out because the business has such a rough time, how much fun the four of them always have when they clean up, usually making a larger mess in the process.

Antonio likes hearing about it.

Feliciano also talks about his friends quite a bit. So far Antonio has learned about Ludwig, a young but very serious and stern German boy in Feliciano's grade, Kiku, a quiet Japanese boy who attends the same art class, and Matthew, a shy Canadian boy that lives in an apartment two stories above them.

For as much as Antonio loved talking to Feliciano, there was one thing the boy couldn't talk to him about, because Feliciano barely knew anything about it, and that was Antonio's past.

"I know your family moved from Madrid when you were a teenager. I know you met Papà at one of his first catering events. And that you don't like talking about your family."

That last one surprised Antonio. The more time he spent relearning about his family, the more he relearned about himself and if there was one thing he knew now it was that he cared so deeply for this family. He was legitimately invested in their happiness and wellbeing. He couldn't come up with a good reason why this wouldn't apply to his parents or siblings. He wasn't really sure if he had any and neither was Feliciano.

"Would Lovi know?"

Feliciano shrugged. "Maybe."

Then Feliciano changed the topic, instead talking about the new phrase Ludwig had taught him in German. Antonio smiled as Feliciano displayed his incredible knack for learning languages, already able to hold small conversations.

"Das ist sehr beeindruckend, Feliciano, ich bin so stolz."

When Feliciano stared open mouthed Antonio realized what he'd said. He slapped a hand to his mouth. The Spaniard blinked.

"I speak German." He let out in a soft breath. Feliciano was still staring as he slowly internalized this.

"I speak Ger- I know how to speak German."

He turned to Feliciano, wondering if he could do it on purpose.

"Wusstest du, dass ich Deutsch sprechen kann?"

Feliciano was almost as spooked as he was when he quietly murmured, "Nein."

Well that officially forced his hand. He had to ask Lovino about his past.

* * *

Easier said than done.

Lovino had become increasingly more stressed with every passing day, between Marcello still not talking to him and spending most of his time out of the apartment doing God knows what and still not having found a single appropriate client, he was a little wound up.

Antonio thought it was a good excuse to do something nice for his husband.

It took some coercing, mostly in the form of sweets, but Feliciano relented to a sleepover at Matthew's and to run a message to Marcello, who wouldn't listen to either of his parents, to stay over somewhere. Antonio had tried to stay out of the whole mess altogether when he realized he was ill prepared to deal with Marcello's fit of teenage rebellion and he was liable to make things worse.

He excused himself with Arthur's brother and got home early to prepare some food for Lovino. He really didn't know how much cooking prowess he had but he was about to find out. Through a mouthful of chocolate Feliciano had informed Antonio that Lovino's favorite dish was a good plate carbonara and briefly went over his own recipe for the dish because of course, on top of everything, Feliciano was an excellent cook.

Everything seemed to be going alright though, and while he was in the kitchen Antonio decided he'd make his own favorite food too. He wasn't really sure how he knew but he was fairly certain it was a nice cool plate of salmorejo.

As he let the dishes cook he set about cleaning the apartment somewhat. He'd never succeed in getting it all done today, but maybe if he cleared a couple of feet of space he'd be able to maneuver the couch so it faced the window. The view of the city lights could be surprisingly beautiful, Antonio found.

He managed to gather up all the loose pieces of clothing in the family area and folded them all, leaving it in several tall stacks inside Lovino's room, before turning to deal with all of Feliciano's assorted art supplies. He emptied out a box and began carefully storing them. It'd be a shame for Feliciano to lose any of them as they were all very good quality and they would probably never be able to afford them again.

As Antonio sorted through the piles of things he came across an old photo album. He quickly confirmed that it was from before he'd come into the picture. He and Lovino had only been together for five years but the date scribbled on the inside of the cover page said it ended just a few years before that, but began a long time ago.

He began to flip through it, eyes wide in shock at what he was seeing. The first pages were mostly dedicated to photos of a toddler and though Antonio had been fairly sure he recognized the boy it was still surprising to flip one of the photos over and see where Lovino had written Marcello's name.

He'd been barely two years old when the picture was taken, of him plopped down on his butt in a bright green uniform, smiling wide at the camera, his hair just as coppery as it was in the present. Antonio wondered for a moment why there weren't any pictures of him as a baby.

A few pages further along Lovino began appearing in the photos, holding Marcello's hand as the boy toddled along, carrying him on his shoulders, coaxing him into different outfits.

And then Antonio turned to see another picture and he stared at it in confusion. There was a woman in the picture, rather than Lovino, dressed rather elegantly in a black dress with long sleeves and a deep v-neck. It struck him quickly, how remarkably similar she looked to Marcello and he swallowed when he realized she must be his mother.

She was lounging in a chair, glancing disinterestedly at Marcello over the top of a magazine as Marcello played on the floor with some large blocks, building a type of tower.

Antonio didn't see her in any other picture.

Further along began pictures of Feliciano and these were baby pictures. The boy had been absolutely adorable, in his little hats and blue outfits. They were pictures of him as a young toddler drawing with spilled sauce and only months later, with his first finger paints, Lovino watching over him carefully.

Lovino was in a lot more of these pictures, holding baby Feliciano, cooing at him and generally spoiling him. Marcello seemed just as happy with his younger brother.

Antonio ached to have been there, growing up with these wonderful kids.

He couldn't help thinking about that woman though he tried hard to put her from his mind. Clearly something had happened. He'd ask Lovino tonight.

With that he startled, remembered he still had the food on and rushed to check on it seeing it was miraculously still okay. He glanced at the broken clock on the wall and hurried to set the table, using a spare sheet to serve as a tablecloth.

He thought it looked pretty good if he said so himself.

He spent the rest of the time clearing out the rest of what he could and in the end he was surprised by how much he was able to do. If he could do something like this a couple more times he might even be able to clear out the whole space.

And then the sound of the lock unclicking and Antonio scrambled to move the serving plates to the table and look presentable. He'd dolled himself up as much as it was available to him.

Lovino closed the door behind him with his eyes practically shut from the exhaustion, nearly missing the shelf to put the keys as he raised his foot to climb over the couch.

He almost flopped onto his face, realizing far too late that there was no couch to climb over. He looked around, eyes unfocused as he tried to figure out what was happening. He found Antonio, standing only slightly uncertainly by the table.

"What's going on?" Lovino asked suspiciously.

"I… I made dinner." Antonio gestured to the table. Lovino looked around again, seeing the room looking much emptier and more orderly than it had in years.

"Where's Feliciano?"

"Sleeping over at Matthew's. Marcello's also staying somewhere else for the night."

At Marcello's name Lovino's demeanor soured significantly.

"What are you playing at here?"

"I thought I'd do something nice for you, I know you've been worked to the bone lately." He reached over to the lid covering one of the dishes, preparing to throw the only trick up his sleeve out there.

"Carbonara?" He asked as he lifted the lid and let the mouthwatering smell of bacon and pasta make its way over to Lovino.

Lovino immediately stopped complaining.

Dinner was a surprisingly nice affair. Lovino was very busy stuffing his face with food so Antonio chatted a bit as he sipped at his soup. For some reason he had a weird feeling as he drank the cool liquid and saw Lovino. He couldn't really place what it was and it was a little disconcerting so he shook it off as best as possible. Still just to be sure…

"Did you ever make this for me?" The question startled Lovino and he answered very quickly. "No. Never. Why do you ask?" Antonio shrugged. "I don't know. Just got a weird feeling."

Lovino grumbled something under his breath but said no more.

When Lovino finally slowed down his frantic attempt to rid the apartment of carbonara, Antonio began an actual conversation.

"So how was work?"

Lovino groaned loudly and shoved another forkful of food in his mouth.

"Awful. We only got two calls and neither of them went anywhere."

Antonio hummed in acknowledgement. Truth be told Lovino didn't usually talk about his job so Antonio wouldn't press unless Lovino brought it up again himself.

"I found a photo album." Antonio hadn't meant to be quite so abrupt but it seemed to do the job well enough.

It was Lovino's turn to hum. "There's a couple lying around here, though I don't think you'd find yourself in any of the pictures. I stopped making them a couple years before meeting you."

Antonio nodded. "I realized." He said quietly. He was only slightly disappointed he didn't get to see pictures of himself and the boys back when things weren't complicated.

"I think… I saw a woman in one of them. Was it Feli and Marcello's mother?"

Lovino froze, muscles tense and Antonio saw as his jaw suddenly set. He stayed still for several moments, his mouth occasionally making movements as if to attempt speech but never quite getting there.

"I thought I'd burned all of those." He finally said in a quiet breath, pushing away his plate.

"I'm sorry it's just… well you know what they say curiosity killed the cat, I'm sorry I asked."

But Lovino waved him off.

"It's okay. You don't remember obviously but we don't talk about that woman in this house."

Antonio deemed it time to veer the conversation far away.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

Lovino clearly thought he was still talking about the woman, because his shoulders remained tense and he leveled one of the strongest glares in his arsenal at Antonio.

Antonio breathed deeply.

"I've been meaning to ask if you could tell me about… about my past."

Lovino paused, but his shoulders were relaxing so Antonio didn't regret asking. Yet.

"You know… you never used to like talking about that particular topic." Lovino warned, similarly to Feliciano.

"I think I at least have the right to know why. Don't you?"

Lovino stared at him blankly for several seconds before relenting.

"Well what do you want to know?" Lovino asked carefully. Antonio felt like he'd been given the key to a bank vault.

"Do I have any family?"

Lovino pondered the question for a moment. "You have relatives, yes."

Antonio didn't understand why he was being cryptic.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Lovino sighed before briefly looking away from Antonio.

"You're family was very religious. They disowned you. They're technically alive and technically related to you but you haven't considered them to be family for years, Antonio. You don't even like mentioning them."

Antonio swallowed heavily.

Oh.

"I… where am I from?" He decided he'd work on processing that later, he'd probably only get one chance at Lovino being this cooperative.

"You were born and raised in Madrid. You and your family moved to the States when you were 15."

Antonio nodded.

"And after that?"

"You finished high school, attended community college for a short stint, worked at a restaurant for a shorter stint, attended a wedding that I was working at and fell madly in love." Lovino smirked as he said this.

"We dated, planned a wedding, came out to your family far too late and suffered those consequences." Lovino paused.

"You came to live with me happily ever after."

Antonio breathed deeply as he slowly internalized this information.

"Did I have any siblings?" It sounds weird to speak in past tense about people he knew were alive, his own flesh and blood.

"Just one. He's an asshole."

"And my parents."

Lovino's gaze darkened.

"Horrible people."

Then Lovino turned to look at Antonio in the eyes, his face framed by the slowly disappearing sunlight as he gave him an earnest look.

"You weren't happy with them Antonio. You're not happy when you think of them. They did awful things to you, you used to wish you'd forget them. I don't want you to waste this opportunity."

Antonio's chest feels tight but he finds that he trusts Lovino, who could be harsh and mean but who Antonio was sure only wanted the best for him. He sniffles a bit, trying to hide his likely red eyes from Lovino.

"Can… can I hold you?"

There's only a second before Lovino is scooching across the couch and Antonio wraps his arms around his waist and, oh God he didn't realize how much he needed this. He hadn't actually touched Lovino yet but it was everything, he realized he had everything he needed in this cramped messy apartment and it was all so much.

He squeezed Lovino tightly and Lovino let himself be squeezed. And when Antonio placed a reverent kiss to the crown of his husband's head, Lovino still did not complain.

Antonio slowly moved down, kissing Lovino's temple, then his cheekbone, his nose. He stopped, face just centimeters apart from Lovino's staring into his lovely olive eyes that really are beautiful when he's not glaring.

And then Lovino pushes forward, their lips pressed chastely at first before moving slowly against each other, and Antonio melts, brings a hand up to hold Lovino's neck and is finally, finally at peace.

* * *

Antonio wakes up the next morning and stretches gloriously. The only thing he can think for several seconds is that he's just come out of the best sleep he feels he's ever had in his life. It takes him a moment to realizes he's in a bed. An actual bed.

He buries his face into the pillow and groans out in the absolute joy of it.

He hears a chuckle from the doorway and lifts his head to see Lovino standing there, fully dressed.

"Lovi!" Antonio cried happily sitting up. He wasn't sure what day it was but he didn't really care because Lovino was smirking and his eyes danced with an amused light rather than a vicious glare and he looked good enough to kiss so Antonio does just that.

He got up, crossed the room and placed his hands on either side of Lovino's face to give him a sweet kiss. God, it was good to be able to do that.

Lovino let him for a few short moments before pushing him off insistently. Antonio whined in the back of his throat and it made Lovino bark out a laugh.

"Get off, bastard." Lovino said, voice light, and Antonio finally pulled away, pouting at his husband.

"That's a mean thing to say."

Lovino rolled his eyes goodnaturedly at Antonio's attempt to puppy dog eye him. "Yeah, yeah, bitch all you want. But get dressed. We gotta go soon."

Antonio frowned as Lovino made his way out of the room.

"Where are we going?" He called out after him.

Lovino shot him back a meaningful look. "Shush." So Antonio obliged.

After getting dressed he found Feliciano making them breakfast as Lovino moved the couch back into place. There really wasn't anywhere else to put it without making it even worse than it already was as a barrier to the entryway. It would block the doors to either Lovino or Marcello's room, or took up the space where the dining table was put.

Feliciano smiled brightly as he greeted him in German. Antonio replied, still feeling completely at a loss for how he knew the language. Had he studied it in college? Lovino told him he hadn't attended for very long.

"Come on, Feli, we're going out."

Feliciano looked up, mouth stuffed with sausage and egg, and a confused little puppy look on his face. "Where are we going?" Asked Feliciano, a piece of sausage almost escaping before he shut his mouth just in time.

Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose and halfheartedly scolded Feliciano against speaking with his mouth full.

"Don't ask too many questions."

Feliciano looked like he immediately had fifteen other questions but he swallowed them along with the bite of food and hurried to finish the rest of his plate before running off to get dressed.

Antonio raised an eyebrow at Lovino, a smile pulling at his lips. Lovino pretended to glare in order to hide a smile but it wasn't really working. Antonio walked over slowly before wrapping his arms over Lovino's shoulders, pulling him close.

Lovino leaned his head back onto Antonio's chest.

And then Feliciano barreled out of the room fully dressed with his sketch book balanced on his head. And with that the little family left, making their way down thirteen floors and into the car.

Feliciano managed to stay quiet most of the trip, it must've been quite the effort, before bursting out: "Are we going to your job?" because indeed that was the path they seemed to be on.

"No, we're sending you to Hogwarts."

Feliciano gasped, eyes wide as Lovino ducked down to stifle his laughter.

WIth that they pulled into the parking lot of the building Lovino (mostly) owned.

"Hey, this isn't Hogwarts." Feliciano complained, but he didn't look too upset about it as he bounced out of the car and towards the door. Antonio was about to follow when Lovino reached out for his arm and pulled him back, simply shaking his head at Antonio's raised eyebrow.

Feliciano heaved open the door taking two steps into the building before…

"Surprise!"

Antonio startled.

When Lovino finally let him enter the building he saw Feliciano, jumping up and down like an over caffeinated bunny and squealing. Having just emerged from their hiding places were a wide assortment of people, Antonio could see Lovino's catering crew, some young children and several adults he had never seen, wearing party hats and waving streamers.

And there was Marcello, of course, holding a humongous cupcake with eleven candles sticking out of it, which he offered to Feliciano with his usual cheeky grin. Feliciano nearly toppled the cake out of his brother's arms as he leaped to hug him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Antonio winced at Feliciano's high note. Lovino cleared his throat behind his son, who turned quickly and gave him an equally enthusiastic embrace.

"You too, obviously."

Lovino huffed but he was smiling.

In the blink of an eye Feliciano had run off to go say hi to his friends and admire the decorations.

Antonio took the time to do so as well, grinning when Lovino sidled up next to him, leaning his head on the Spaniard's chest.

The entire locale had been cleaned and decked out in every kind of party decoration conceivable, from balloons to streamers and banners. The floor was littered with confetti someone had thrown when Feliciano came in and there was a corner with props for silly pictures.

The birthday boy was busy introducing some of his friends to each other, and working his way through his massive cupcake.

Someone started playing pop music on some shitty speakers and Feliciano dragged one of his friends out to the area cleared for dancing. The poor boy looked like the dance most suited to his tastes would be a march, but Feliciano wouldn't let him go and so, blushing bright red, the young blond boy tried his best to keep up with an overly excited Feliciano, a commendable feat.

Lovino pulled Antonio away from enjoying watching his son torture his friends to take him around the room introducing him.

He'd already met most of the catering crew, who he exchanged pleasantries with, but he was introduced to one last fresh face, Tolys, who Antonio was fairly certain was going out with Feliks' but he wasn't about to ask.

"Nice to meet you."

Tolys made a weird squeaky sound in the back of his throat that only vaguely resembled English and his hand trembled a bit in Antonio's grasp.

"Oh, look, something interesting, far away from here." Feliks suddenly burst in, grabbing Tolys by the back of his shirt and hauling him away.

Antonio blinked. That was odd.

Still, Lovino had him moving along, making small talk with all of Feli's friends' parents, stopping on their way to say hi to a lovely young woman, who introduced herself as Elizaveta, their next door neighbor, and her fiancé, a haughty looking man with glasses who gave off the impression of wishing to be just about anywhere else on the planet.

Then Lovino went off to go get the cake and Antonio was about to help him when he suddenly spotted someone out of the corner of his eye.

Oh.

He made his way over to Marcello, leaning against the wall in the farthest corner.

"Hey, they're about to sing happy birthday."

As he approached, Antonio saw that Marcello was scowling.

"Yeah, I know." He grunted out. He had his arms folded tightly over his chest.

Antonio licked his lips.

"You feeling okay?"

Marcello glared down at his shoes kicking the ground harshly.

"Peachy." He snapped.

Antonio looked around suddenly.

"Didn't you invite any friends?"

"Well, somebody didn't let me invite Peter even though Feli wanted him here too, so no," Marcello glared at Antonio. "I didn't invite any friends."

Antonio was about to respond when the opening line to happy birthday began and Marcello pushed himself off the wall, heading over. His demeanor changed drastically as he walked, so that by the time he'd arrived at his brother's side he was smiling, reaching down a hand to mess up Feli's hair and smearing frosting onto his cheeks.

Marcello spent the remainder of the party at Feli's side, cracking jokes and teasing his brother but whenever he thought there wasn't anyone looking at his face fell. Sometimes he'd be bold enough to glare at Lovino from across the room when his father was facing the other way.

Antonio had mostly stayed out of the whole conflict, thinking the memory loss had left him inadequately prepared to deal with the situation.

It was time for that to change.

A/N: I almost forgot it was Sunday today, that would've been embarrasing. Anyways, here's chapter five, hope you liked it, hope you'll be back next week. Also, I realized a short while ago that somewhere between the jump from google doc, to word document, to the document editor on the site, that the divisions between chapter sections just disappeared, which could make it harder to read so I'll be going back to the first couple chapters and fixing that.


	6. Chapter 6

Antonio stuffed his hands deep inside his pockets in order to have something to do with them. Next to him, Marcello fidgeted anxiously with his own hands, and tried to pretend he wasn't glancing at Antonio out of the corner of his eye every other second.

Antonio had made up his mind to do his part to talk with Marcello as they drove back from the party. When they got home Antonio suggested they go for a walk. He'd been astounded it worked, but here they were, having slowly made their way through the desolate park to a mossy bench. There was a streetlight over the bench but it's light was shrouded by the intertwined branches of the tree growing next to it.

Antonio tilted his head back to look at the night's sky, able to spot only a few glittering lights in the vast expanse of darkness. A small, sad smile made its way onto his face, as he thought about it.

"Can't really see the stars out here can you?"

Marcello shrugged, humming in acknowledgement, his shoulders remaining drawn up and tense. It was a couple more beats as he shifted around where he was sitting, before he burst out:

"If Lovino put you up to this-"

"Relax," Antonio urged. "Lovino has nothing to do with this. Actually he'd probably be upset to know what I'm doing. He wants me to stay far away from this whole thing."

Marcello paused. "So then, why are we here?" A distant bird chirped into the empty night air and was met with silence.

The Spaniard rolled his eyes. "What can't I occasionally wanna see my son?"

Antonio quickly tried to find a way to backtrack upon seeing Marcello draw back into himself.

"Look, I don't really know what I'm dealing with here, I'm missing a whole lot of context that could do everyone some good."

Marcello grumbled something softly under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "could do Lovino some good."

"It feels like I picked the worst time to lose my memories doesn't it?"

Marcello let out a bark of a laugh. Antonio glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and he couldn't help thinking that Marcello looked so… hurt. He tried to hide it behind glares and angry shouting but it was clear under the humming streetlights that something was causing him grief.

"I'm not going to stand here and pretend I understand. I won't even try to pretend I know you. I don't. Maybe I did. Maybe this wouldn't have happened the same way if it had been before and I'd be able to-" He stopped short. He'd almost said if he'd been able to back up Lovino and lend him support but he thought that might be the worst thing he could say when it finally looked like Marcello was listening.

"To be here for you. For the both of you." He settled on saying. Marcello huffed, but it was a far cry from the anger Antonio was expecting for bringing up Lovino.

"I might not understand but I can always promise to listen, Marcello."

There was silence as the breeze gently rustled the branches of the tree over them, throwing odd shadows over their already poorly illuminated position.

"I'm not even upset at Lovino anymore." He finally mumbled under his breath. Antonio inclined his head to show that Marcello had his attention..

Marcello puffed out his cheeks before trying again.

"I was, at first. I was angry about," He huffed again, waving his hands around as if that would explain anything. "The whole thing. How he was treating me but now I'm just…"

"Hurt?" Antonio offered.

Marcello nodded mutely.

"I thought maybe a temper tantrum like this would finally get Lovino to pay attention to me but he's barely even bothered to wonder where I am."

Antonio stopped short. "You know that's not true right?"

He didn't.

"Lovino has been worried sick about you. I've barely been able to stop him from hunting you down Liam Neeson style."

A small watery smile spreads across Marcello's face as he sniffles.

"If I tell you something," He asked, drawing his arms tight around himself, nervously. "Do you promise not to tell Lovino?"

This felt suspiciously like a trap to Antonio, something he most definitely shouldn't agree to because Lovino was his husband and he shouldn't be keeping secrets from him, especially not about their son and especially not since Antonio felt he had caused Lovino enough grief for a lifetime. But judging from the look Marcello was giving him, the boy had been dying to tell someone, anyone who could try and understand and he relented. He knew he would, this was his son after all and he had discovered something in himself recently; that he'd do absolutely anything for his family's happiness.

"I… I called my mom after the fight."

Antonio let that sink into his understanding slowly.

Oh.

_Oh._

And then Marcello was speaking hurriedly, pushing the words through his throat and out of his mouth as fast as he possibly could, as if he thought someone would try to stop him.

"When the divorce came, way back when, they asked us who we wanted to stay with, and I said Lovino, mostly because Feli had said Lovino, and I did anything Feli did back then because I thought it might make Lovino like me more. I've always… I've always wondered what would've happened to me if I'd stayed with her, if I grew up the only child of a wealthy woman and not a broke man's second favorite son. So after the fight I called her and I asked if I could visit and I did."

Antonio tried, for Marcello's sake to stay focused but that was a lot of information to process about his husband and his eldest son.

Marcello had to pause and swallow several times before continuing, voice taught.

"My mother is an awful selfish woman who doesn't love anything. I used to wonder why Lovino broke it off with mom, it always seemed that we were better off with her money and I never knew what Lovino saved us from till recently."

"I realized he loves me. And I think… I think he's hard on me cause he sees too much of himself in me, and he thinks I deserve better than he got, he wants me to have better than he got, so he tries to push me in ways he doesn't push Feli, because Feli is nothing like him."

"I wanna come back home." Marcello admitted. "I'm just not sure I can face Lovino after that. He deserves a better son."

Marcello was surprised when Antonio reached over and engulfed him in a hug. It was a moment before he put his arms around Antonio and hugged his father back.

"Speaking as someone whose had a lot of practice in causing Lovino grief lately," Antonio said, finally pulling away from the embrace and tucking his son's hair behind his ear. "The only thing he's waiting for, is for you to come back home."

Marcello nodded, a tight knot in his throat preventing him from verbally agreeing with Antonio.

Antonio held his son close as they walked back home, and at some point, after leaving the park but before getting to the building, he heard the teenager's muffled words against his side.

"_Grazie, Pàpa."_

* * *

The household was quiet when they returned (apart from their still labored breathing after their thirteen floor trek), and Antonio bid Marcello goodnight as the copper-haired boy returned to his Harry Potter-esque room and the Spaniard collapsed into his own couch, snoring the moment his head hit the pillow.

It seemed to Antonio it had only been fifteen minutes when Lovino's obnoxious alarm clock was doing its damndest to wake up the whole damn apartment floor.

Antonio growled, yanked the couch cushion out from under his head, tipped his head into the newly formed hole and tried to smush the thing over his head in such a way it blocked out the screeching. Eventually the house went quiet again and Antonio prayed it would stay that way, though he knew it was futile.

Feliciano was the first to peek his head out of his and Lovino's room and he flashed Antonio his megawatt smile which Antonio tried his best to return. Feliciano bustled about the kitchen making breakfast and a few minutes later Lovino crawled out of bed as well, slumping over at their rickety little table and nursing a soup bowl's worth of coffee.

Just as Feliciano plated everyone's breakfast Marcello stumbled out of his closet in his usual messy fashion that knocked most of its contents into the tiny space they shared.

The quiet that settled over the kitchen was charged as Marcello managed to set himself right side up again. He shook his head something that bordered on violent and tried to blink away the stars.

In a single motion Antonio, who had been leaning against the wall waiting for his plate, swiftly picked up his and Feliciano's plate and declared they'd be back, as Lovino finally got over his shock of actually seeing Marcello again. With that, Antonio herded the young Italian out the door and they plopped down in the middle of the hallway to have their breakfast in peaceful silence as they waited for Marcello and Lovino to reconcile.

"_Eres lo mejor que nos pudiese haber pasado, sabes?"_

Antonio smiled and gently pushed Feliciano's shoulder. _"A ver si no es al revés, y ustedes son lo mejor que me podría haber pasado."_

And so the return of the megawatt smile.

When they finally went to carefully peek back into their home, they saw Lovino and Marcello in a fierce embrace, coming away with wide smiles and teary eyes. Feliciano, never one to be left out, burst into the room and demanded a group hug and Antonio was only too happy to comply, gathering up his little family in his arms.

And everything was finally as it should've been.

* * *

Antonio rubbed circles over Lovino's white knuckles in an effort to soothe him, which was not necessarily working.

After sitting down for an open, mutually respectful conversation with Marcello about Peter, Lovino had finally relented to accepting the Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen's invitation for dinner, which is where they were at the moment.

Feliciano had been more than happy to have a sleepover at Ludwig's, which was probably not helping Lovino relax.

Regardless the evening was going swimmingly.

Antnio had had to keep himself from gawking when arriving initially. It seemed after two months in his minuscule apartment he had forgotten that real houses were actually large and had space and one did not have to climb over a couch to enter one's residence.

It was a fairly cookie cutter house, which Lovino had remarked somewhat darkly under his breath, but no one could deny it was beautiful and well maintained, white picket fence and all.

The Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen's were nearly as cookie cutter as their house. Berwald, a giant hulking man with a permanent frown on his face who had barely mumbled five words all night, worked selling furniture and Tino was what amounted to a housewife, with a truly astonishing amount of hobbies that kept him as busy as a full time job. They had a white fluffy dog that Marcello seemed very familiar with as he picked it up and cooed at it for several minutes upon arriving and to whom Peter was currently in the process of sneaking scraps to.

"Oh, I'm so glad Marcello finally convinced you to come over." Tino remarked as everyone was settling down onto the table, which Antonio reveled in its ability to fit six people more than comfortably, and getting ready to serve their food. Lovino made a soft grunting noise under his breath and Antonio kicked him in the shins, smiling widely at Tino who he found delightful.

"Don't mind Lovino, he's just a grump. We're happy to be here as well, Tino." Antonio was not even going to try and pronounce the man's last name and it pleased Tino to be on first name basis anyway.

"You have a lovely home." Antonio commented as he urged Lovino not to be rude and to take his food already, which he did with the minimal amount of grumbling.

Initially neither Berwald nor Lovino were especially chatty but that was fine because Antonio and Tino made more than enough conversation for the entire table. Marcello and Peter were ignoring the rest of the dinner guests in favor discussing their plans to go see a movie next week.

"So how have things been since the accident, Marcello told us about it. We thought about going over to offer help but Marcello said the situation was too delicate."

Antonio sighed as he responded. "Well, it was certainly difficult at first, but everything's finally stabilized. I still don't remember anything really but, the doctors said that might be the case. Still, we're moving forward."

Tino smiled brightly and assured Antonio that the offer for help remained open should they need it.

When everyone had finished dinner Marcello and Peter went off to cuddle on the couch and watch tv, while they're parents continued talking over cups of hot chocolate Tino had prepared. With quite a bit of extortion from their husbands' part, Lovino and Berwald would occasionally say something marginally more verbal than a grunt.

"So how long have you known that about the two lovebirds?" Antonio asked curiously, glancing over his shoulder to see Marcello carding his fingers through Peter's hair, the boy's head in his lap as they gasped at the completely unforeseen backstabbing occuring on screen.

Tino blinked.

"Marcello's been coming over for years." Tino said matter of factly.

Lovino's eyes narrowed into slits. "Excuse me?"

Tino shrugged and began to heap marshmallows into his mug.

"Well, they've been friends since Peter was in elementary school. They weren't dating back then but they were still inseparable."

"And you just let them get together?" Lovino's tone was accusatory and harsh and it took Tino by surprise. Antonio smacked his arm and glared at him.

"Don't mind him he's being a _stupid_ grump, _because we already discussed this, Lovino._" Antonio hissed warningly under his breath but Tino picked up Lovino's gaze and held it in challenge.

"You think I should've told Peter he wasn't allowed to date a boy older than himself?"

"Yes!" Lovino shouted, as if it was a conclusion he had been waiting impatiently for everyone to arrive at all night. Marcello glanced up from his place on the couch and groaned loudly ducking down to hide behind it.

But Tino held his ground.

"Tell me Lovino, honestly, what do you think that would've accomplished?"

Lovino froze, thought for a moment and deflated quickly. Tino smirked and sipped his mostly marshmallow drink in order to hide it.

"Just because I have not condemned his behavior does not mean I find it ideal. Would I have chosen for Peter to be dating a boy two years older than him at fourteen? Probably not. But the fact of the matter is it happened. Berwald is nearly a decade older than me, and outright forbidding Peter to be with Marcello because of an age gap would've been nothing but hypocrisy, firstly and secondly, the only thing it would've done is ensure that Peter went behind my back. I don't know about you but I much prefer when my son feels it is safe and necessary to talk to me about his relationship rather than what might happen if Peter felt the need to keep secrets from me in fear of punishment and if perhaps Marcello weren't such a wonderful boy as he is."

Lovino looked nothing short of being physically stricken across the face. Tino shrugged.

"At least like this I know where they're going, what they're doing, am allowed to input and sleep perfectly soundly with the knowledge that Peter knows he can come talk to me at anytime about anything. It'd be a shame to tear down the open honest lines of communication I have worked fourteen years to establish and maintain, over a relationship that is quite frankly adorable."

The Finn stuffed one last marshmallow into his mug and took a long sip from it, his brown eyes still piercing into Lovino's soul over the rim.

Antonio tried not to grin smugly as Lovino turned the aggression all the way down and settled for crossing his arms and huffing. The moment was quickly left behind as Antonio tried to find subtle ways to suggest that Berwald give him a discount on a new dining table.

Sometime later Antonio sat down to talk to Peter while Lovino and Tino shared some of Marcello's best 'Marcello' moments.

Peter was everything Marcello had described and more. An incessant fountain of energy and positivity, he asked half a dozen questions about how getting amnesia works, but before Antonio even had a chance to think of a response, the boy continued onto an anecdote about a dream he had where everyone seemed to think that the past had happened differently to how Peter remembered it to be and Antonio agreed that was actually pretty accurate to how he felt when Lovino first came to pick him up.

Despite being able to carry five different conversations all on his own Peter was a very sympathetic young boy who, when asked to listen, would give you his whole undivided attention, which was quite a feat to marvel at.

Antonio would have to agree with Marcello, Peter seemed very ADHD. Still Antonio could definitely see why Marcello liked him. Peter's unrelenting optimism had to be good for Marcello's mental state.

Just as they were discussing the pros and cons of their favorite superheroes, Peter counting off Supergirl's large array of powers and abilities as well as personality traits against Antonio's fervent claim that you couldn't possibly best Zorro who he called "an antique batman, batmobile, batarang and all" the sound of Lovino's ringtone interrupted Marcello's loud objections to the conversation his father was having with Tino.

Antonio glanced back to the dining room where Lovino was now frowning at his phone screen. He pressed to answer the phone.

He had barely finished his first syllable before he was bombarded with an incoherent stream of shrieks from the other end. He flinched and pulled it far away from his ear as he barked at Feliks to calm the hell down.

The noise on the other line reduced and Lovino listened to it intently, going perfectly still, face blank.

And then he nearly knocked the whole table over as he shot out of his chair. He hit his knees with a resounding crack that made everyone flinch but he barely seemed to notice as he struggled to extract himself from the corner of the table he had been in and shout at Feliks at the same time.

"Tell the bastard I'll be there in five."

Lovino accidently kicked the wall as he finally made it out into the hall, with Tino calling quietly after him in confusion.

"No, I'm nearly twenty minutes away. Whatever, just keep him busy I'll find a way to make it, I'm already in the car, Feliks, I swear on your leopard print pumps if you ruin this for us it's your ass!" He hissed viciously into the receiver before hanging up fumbling twice in his attempt to yank the door open.

"Lovino, is everything alright?" Tino tried to call. Lovino shot back an answer that was half Italian, 100% dismissive. Something along the lines of: "Non ti preoccupare, have fun, devo andare."

"Lovi!" Antonio chased after his husband, barely catching him before he slammed the car door behind him, he could almost feel Marcello and Peter's gazes on the back of his neck through the window.

Lovino paused, turned back and roughly pulled down Antonio's face to push a rushed kiss to his lips, though he didn't exactly hit his target head on in his haste.

"Feliks called from work, don't expect me back tonight." He shuffled quickly through his pockets for his phone before remembering it was in his hand and shoving it at Antonio.

"Get a cab, pick up Feliciano, I'll call as soon as I can, ciao."

And with that Lovino threw himself into the driver's seat and slammed the door after him. Antonio flinched at the high pitched shriek of rubber on asphalt as Lovino peeled out of the driveway nearly five times over the speed limit.

Back inside the house Tino herded the boys away from the window, after having snooped himself and leaned out to call Antonio back into the house.

The Spaniard went somewhat numbly.

A/N: Me, sweating buckets as I realize it's time to post chapter six and I've barely started writing chapter eight. Well, I guess I know what I'll be doing all week. Anyways, hope you had a lovely week and that Friday the thirteenth wasn't to bad (I had an absolutely awful day that I plan to bleach from my memory), hopefully you enjoyed this chapter and if I haven't already broken my fingers in my despreate attempt to finish writing the last three chapters, I'll see you next week.


	7. Chapter 7

"Lovi, sweetheart, please, I can't understand you."

It was the third time Lovino had trailed off into Italian in his frenzy. It didn't help that it was sometime around two in the morning and Antonio had just woken up. He was slumped over in his couch, and it was hard enough having to focus on not falling over and holding the phone to his ear to add to that his increasingly confusing conversation with Lovino.

Through the speaker came the harsh sound of Lovino taking a deep breath and then he began again, somewhat less insanely.

"You know Tolys, right?"

"Yes." Antonio answered dutifully.

"You know he's kinda neurotic, right?"

Antonio thought that was putting it mildly, but he hummed in agreement. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and wobbled threateningly.

"So, we never talk about this because it winds him up a real special way, but the reason he's like that is because of his ex who's this Russian mafia goon who was Feliks' best bud back in the day."

This is where Antonio got lost last time and he's still not sure that he heard Lovino correctly, despite the fact that the Italian had finally managed to calm down enough to speak sensible English. The idea of Feliks knowing a Russian mafia goon was easy enough to follow but that Tolys would date one was still having some trouble registering.

"The thing is, when Feliks found out what Ivan was doing to Tolys he got every shade of pissed and so Ivan owes him a favor."

"Okay." Antonio said, continuing his valiant effort to understand how any of this was connected to Lovino running off at the Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen's earlier… well not today, he thought, glancing at the clock and the ungodly hour it proclaimed.

"Ivan has this sister, right? Complete fucking psychopath, stalker type who was obsessed with him in all sorts of creepy ways."

"Mhhm," Antonio practically whined. It was turning out much more difficult than he had anticipated it would be to not to be upset with Lovino.

"So all of the sudden his sister says she wants to get married and move to Switzerland with this woman she met like last week. And Ivan, who's been trying to get rid of her for years, is obviously all for it and said he'd pay for the whole damn event and especially her tickets out of the country."

It seemed the tale was coming to an end and Antonio almost sighed in relief. "Alright. What does that have to do with us?"

"Remember, he owes Feliks a favor. So when he calls up saying he's going to have a spectacle made in a week flat Feliks told him to contract us for the catering."

Slowly it began to dawn on Antonio. Lovino kept talking but now the words settled into the fog of Antonio's brain, shining brightly through it like a beacon

"You have a client." Antonio said, unable to stop the slow grin spreading across his face. He could almost hear Lovino's smile over the phone.

"And a big one. Ivan's so desperate to get this done before Natalya has a chance to change her mind he's willing to pay double."

Antonio had the very air knocked out of him as he clutched the phone close to his ear, eyes wide.

"That's… that's amazing, Lovi!" He shouted before immediately clamping a hand over his mouth, scared of having woken either of his boys. Lovino hated talking about it but Antonio knew the catering business was barely keeping itself afloat. This kind of money could buy them time.

"Oh, Lovi," Antonio whispered reverently, wishing his husband was with him so he could squeeze him tight.

There was a short but comfortable silence in which Antonio took the time to thank God for this development and then wondered whether or not he believed in him before losing his memories. He'd have ask Lovino someday.

"The wedding's on Friday, so I'll need you to take over handling the boys' things all week, but I promise I'll make it up to you-"

"What are you talking about?" Antonio suddenly interrupted. Lovino went quiet for a moment.

"Well, I'll have to be working all week." He explained tentatively.

"And we'll be helping you of course."

Lovino flailed around for something to say, coming up short several times before managing:

"But, the boys have school and you have work and-"

"Most of my employers will be taking the week off to work with you too, and I'm sure we can find a way to smuggle the boys out of school."

When Lovino's end went dead silent, Antonio sighed, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before resolving to tell Lovino why he really wanted this.

"It'll be like old times, right?"

Silence. For a second Antonio was scared he had ruined everything, that Lovino still wasn't ready to bond like they used to, or that he thought Antonio wasn't ready. Then, very softly Antonio heard his reply.

"Yeah like… like old times." He sounded a little dazed. Antonio ran his hands over his cheek, the poor thing aching something terrible from smiling so much.

"Lovi," he whispered.

Lovino hummed.

"I love you."

Quiet. Then:

"I love you, too, you silly bastard." Lovino breathed out. Then he sighed heavily in defeat. "Alright, you and the boys can come in a couple of hours but let them sleep."

Antonio scoffed playfully.

"Oh, so it's okay to wake me up at this ungodly hour but the boys get to stay wrapped up in their comfy little beds."

"Ah, stop whining you're not nearly as cute as either of them."

Antonio gasped loudly and he could hear Lovino cackling on the other end.

"Now shut up and go back to sleep you lazy Spaniard, I won't have you burning down my kitchen because you fell asleep."

* * *

Reporting for duty in Lovino's kitchen was not at all as Antonio expected it to be.

For one, Lovino was in a heated argument with a man Antonio had never seen before but who he was not surprised to see though.

Russian mafia goon indeed.

The man was tall, at least six feet, with broad shoulders and thick limbs. He wore a long expensive looking bulky tailored coat and heavy leather boots, neither of which had any place this near summer. His face was pale, with silvery gray hair and eyes so blue they were almost purple.

And he was withering under Lovino's barrage, as all wise men should.

"I'm a caterer not a goddamn wedding planner, I'm here to put food on a plate and call it a day, not go around shopping for dresses and flowers." And with that Lovino finished his rant, leaving the Russian looking very distressed as he wrung his gloved hands, a prominent pout on his lips.

Lovino noticed Antonio in the door and waved him over. Antonio happily complied, only too willing to give Lovino his kiss as the Italian turned his face for it expectantly. When Antonio easily slotted his arm around his husband's waist, in a way that made it seem like it was really the only place it belonged, Lovino smirked, looking like a man who had the world in the palm of his hand.

The Russian cocked his head in confusion and Lovino cleared his throat.

"Ivan, this is my husband, Antonio. Antonio, the client we'll be working with, Ivan."

Ivan suddenly pursed his lips, brows furrowed in concentration as he narrowed his eyes at Antonio. Lovino was just about to ask what the fuck Ivan thought he was doing looking at his husband like that, when a look of realization broke out over Ivan's face and he smiled, a wide smile full of childish glee.

"Lovino, may I speak with you privately for a moment."

Lovino had his eyes narrowed at the Russian's smile because a happy Ivan was never a good sign. Neither was an upset Ivan. The man in general carried around a cloud of _bad_, trailing around him like the plague.

"What do you want?" He asked slowly.

Ivan's smile only got bigger if that was possible. "I simply wish to discuss the menu with you."

That was bullshit because the menu had already been hashed out and quadruple checked but he followed the Russian out the door while Antonio and the boys went to greet the rest of the crew.

"I wonder, Lovino, how a man such as yourself managed to reign in one of the richest men in the world, Antonio Fernández Carriedo?"

Lovino's entire being locked up. He glared at Ivan with all his anger, which was quite a bit.

"If you breathe a single fucking thing Ivan, I swear to every god I will castrate you-" Lovino hissed under his breath advancing on the man but the Russian just raised his hands, pleading innocence he did not deserve.

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing." He said sweetly. But before Lovino had time to feel relieved: "If you send someone to accompany Natalya to find her wedding dress."

Lovino cursed under his breath. He had seen it coming a mile away but he had still hoped.

"Fine." He spat out, reaching a hand to shake Ivan's in order to seal the deal, knowing it was useless to try and crush the man's fingers but doing so anyway. Ivan found it immensely amusing.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

Lovino muttered a few choice expletives in Italian under his breath as he threw open the doors to the building.

"Antonio!"

He called out and was not surprised to see his Spaniard was at his side faster than he could blink.

"Yes, Lovi?" He asked.

"Congratulations, you get to help a psychopath find a wedding dress."

Antonio blinked in confusion. "But… but I thought I'd be helping you in the kitchen. With the boys." He added for emphasis, pointing at his kids, Feliciano already studying the chosen menu eagerly and Marcello joking around with Carlos.

Lovino gave him a sympathetic look.

"Trust me, the kitchen will still be here when you get back. How about you take Feliciano, his cuteness ought to be useful at preventing any grave bodily injury."

"Any what?"

But Lovino was already pushing him out the door. "Just tell her she looks pretty when she smiles and duck for cover when it looks like she wants to rip someone's throat out."

He turned back to snap at Feliciano to go with his father and practically kicked them both out of the building.

"This will be fun." Feliciano proclaimed happily. Antonio had his doubts.

* * *

"Get it off, get it off, get this stupid thing off!"

Antonio did his best not to cower in fear as Natalya threatened to throw a tantrum for the third time.

She was a small woman, but intimidating nonetheless, with a certain crazed fire in her eyes that sent shivers down your spine. She was pulling roughly at the ruffles decorating her sleeves, kicking the skirt around as she stomped around the platform, shooting evil glares at the mirrors all around her.

The assistant helping them winced in sympathy for the dress.

Before anything could get much worse Natalya's fiancée, a petite quiet woman from Liechtenstein who introduced herself as Lily to Antonio, intervened. She stood up and approached the Russian, something you couldn't have paid Antonio to do.

She reached out for Natalya's hand and began rubbing soothing circles onto the back of her hand, waiting until Natalya stopped kicking to move behind her and wrap her arms securely around her middle, rocking her side to side and whispering sweet gentle encouragements in her ear.

Natalya deflated quickly, leaning back into the other woman's affections easily. When Lily looked up at Natalya, her deep turquoise eyes shining with nothing but concern and understanding, Natalya melted completely.

"Do you feel better?"

Natalya nodded wordlessly, burying her face in her soon-to-be wife's chest.

"Good." The happy pair smiled at each other before Lily began leading Natalya away. "Let's get this off you then."

And off they went.

Antonio whistled lowly under his breath which made Feliciano giggle. He grinned down at his son.

"And to think, I wondered for a moment why I had married a man."

Seeing Feliciano laugh freely could always make Antonio's day.

"Those two were made for each other." Grunted the man to Antonio's right, Lily's brother. Antonio hummed noncommittally. In his humble opinion no one had committed a heinous enough crime to deserve a lifetime with that woman.

The women returned and this time Natalya was back in her own dress looking grumpy.

"I just don't get it, I've spent my whole life envisioning my wedding dress, and it's always been a poofy fairytale ball gown that makes me look like an upside down teacup, but everything I've tried just makes me wanna hurt whoever made it. I hate them, I hate all of them!" She exclaimed throwing her hands up in frustration.

"You could just not wear a dress." Feliciano supplied distractedly as he sketched in his notebook.

Natalya paused.

"And what, show up to my own wedding in a blouse?"

But Feliciano shook his head, turning his pencil over and carefully erasing a line he'd just made, his tongue poking out as he concentrated.

"You could wear suit."

And with that, he brandished his sketch, two women holding hands under and archway, the smallest of which was wearing a sleek mermaid dress and the other a tailored suit with thin vertical stripes. Natalya squinted at the drawing for a second before pointing emphatically. "That. Get me something like that."

The assistant hurried off with the ladies in tow and when they returned, Natlya proudly marching with a grin that could split her face in a striped suit, Antonio knew they were done here.

There was a quick stop to drop Natalya and Lily off at a tailor for her to get her suit made, and then Antonio was home free.

Or that's what he thought.

Working with Lovino wasn't quite as easy as he thought it would be.

When he walked in to see his husband wielding a fire extinguisher against Feliks he knew it was going to be a long week.

* * *

Antonio rested his head against the basket and yawned.

Jesus, he was tired.

It was T-minus three days till the wedding and Antonio wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

For as much as Lovino promised him a chance at the kitchen, he'd spent most of the week playing errand boy and gopher. That's not to say he hadn't touched any of the food, just yesterday he and Lovino had spent the entire day preparing a sample batch of pirozhki which they restarted three different times, but each had been worth it to see the look on Ivan and Natalya's face as they munched on them and stole all of the crew's shares.

Still there was no going around the fact that Antonio had spent most of the week getting fast food for the crew, hunting down obscure Russian ingredients Lovino was adamant were necessary and driving crew members back and forth.

Currently he found himself in the apartment complex's laundry, because Marcello had completely forgotten it was his turn last time (Antonio sincerely doubted this, Marcello was a sly little weasel and he had seen him grinning as he left).

He felt himself yawn again and raised a hand to cover his mouth. He almost slumped over and fell asleep right there against the folding table.

Then he heard the machine slow down its whirring and sighed happily, grabbing the great big lump of clothes, still warm and fuzzy from the dryer, and stuffed it into the basket on top of all the others, having been the last of three different loads.

He heaved the basket off the table and sighed at the prospect of climbing thirteen floors. Somehow, even after two months, his body had yet to grow accustomed to the trip.

As he reached the landing he received a text from Lovino saying that Feliks had dropped him off at the building.

Antonio smiled and hurried to the apartment door eager to finish and head back to the kitchens with Lovino. He had just put down the basket and began to fish around for his keys when the next door over opened and out came a man Antonio had never seen around the building before.

He was a tall, dark skinned man with hard features. Antonio was just about to discard it when he remembered a conversation, what seemed like a million years ago.

"_Your jaw is sore because before your drunkass threw itself in the harbor you got into a fight with our neighbor. You gave him a black eye and he returned the favor by trying to dislocate your jaw."_

Right, Antonio thought. He owed this man an apology.

"Excuse me," He called out as the man went to walk past him without further adieu. He paused and shot Antonio a weird look.

"What?" He grunted disinterestedly.

Antonio licked his lips.

"Well, um… I just wanted to say that... well, I wish to apologize for my behaviour and what happened a while back, I would've done so sooner I just hadn't seen you since, and I would like you to know that I deeply regret the events of that night."

The man sneered at Antonio. "The hell are you talking about?"

Antonio blinked.

"The fight. Just before I fell in the harbor, we had a fight."

The man shook his head.

"I've never seen you before in my life."

Antonio was left standing there, with an expression like someone had just struck him across the face.

Several moments later footsteps could be heard trumping up the maintenance stairs and then the door opened to reveal his husband.

But suddenly Antonio wasn't sure that's who he was looking at.

"Can you believe Ivan? First he sends you dress shopping, now he kidnapped Feliks to look at flowers, how am I supposed to get this done if he keeps stealing my employees-"

"Why'd you lie to me?"

Antonio's voice is a deadpan, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set tightly and it only served to make him angrier.

Lovino stopped short.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Nope, nope, that was too much for Antonio, he hadn't even known he could get this angry, much less at Lovino. Lovino who had been treating him so nicely since they had finally made up after his memory loss, Lovino who he worked day and night to please in a desperate attempt to redeem himself for what he'd done, Lovino who had _lied to him._

"You heard me. Why'd you lie to me, huh? Back at the hospital, you said I got in a fight with neighbor except I just talked to the neighbor and he says _he's never seen me before in his life!"_

Antonio hadn't meant to shout he really hadn't.

"And forgive me, really, if the only logical conclusion I can draw from that is that you're keeping secrets from me!"

Lovino just stared back struck dumb before his mouth drew into a tight line. "Just, let's just fucking forget about this alright, it's more trouble than it's worth."

Antonio could barely believe his eyes when Lovino started walking away.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on!" Antonio shouted after him.

Lovino whirled around angrily, throwing his arms up as he practically growled.

"You want the truth? You want the real truth?"

Antonio thought it was obvious by his expression.

"We're not married! We never were! There are you happy now?!"

Antonio didn't know he had it in him to get anymore furious.

"_Why the hell would that make me happier!?"_

"Isn't that what you wanted to hear?! That you don't owe us anything! That you can get the fuck out of here and leaves us to rot. Have your own happy ending."

Antonio could not wrap his mind around how offended he was.

"You- didn't- How dare you?! I love you! I love my kids! You are my happy ending you stubborn jerk, I just want to know why you lied to me!"

"What's with the fucking commotion?!"

Antonio winces as he turns to see who had come out to witness Lovino and his' dispute.

He recognized Elizaveta, the young woman who lived in the other apartment across from them. He had seen her in passing before, had taken to greeting her in a friendly manner after Feliciano's birthday, and he knew that Lovino trusted her to look after Feliciano occasionally when the need arose.

For some unfathomable reason she had a pan in her hand.

"If you want to have a shouting match, take it outside will you?"

Then she paused as she saw Antonio and Lovino still shaking with fury and she pursed her lips.

"Wait a minute, what's all this about?"

Lovino sighed gratefully. Someone to take his side.

"Elizaveta. Just the person I need. Do me a favor and back me up, tell him that we're not married and we never were."

Elizaveta simply blinked.

"Well, of course not."

Lovino pumped his fist in triumph ready to proclaim his victory when:

"It wasn't legal yet. I mean, the ceremony was lovely really, and I always have appreciated the invite but you're not technically married, although really is it worth such a fuss?"

Antonio felt his shoulders slump. Oh good God, he'd almost had a heart attack, however much he had tried to hide it under his rage. He felt his hands shake and a short burst of delirious laughter forced its way out of his lips.

"That's not-" Lovino groaned loudly. "I'm trying to do a good thing here and come clean!" He exclaimed throwing his hands up in surrender.

"Come clean about what?" Elizaveta asked, leaning against her door frame, now twirling the pan around.

"Why he told me I had a fight with the neighbor the night I fell in the harbor, though the neighbor's just said he never fought me and has never seen me before." Antonio frowned as he said this. That still needed clearing up.

"Well, of course Sadik's never seen you he just moved in like two days ago. It was me you had a fight with."

Antonio's mouth flops open and closed like a fish.

"I did what?"

Elizaveta chuckled in amusement.

"Oh I assume Lovino was trying to shield your dignity from the shame of getting your ass kicked by a woman. Fear not, he has your best interests at heart even if he did tell you a little white lie."

Antonio felt himself take what felt like his first breath in far too long. His bones felt like jelly. Still he managed to pull himself together long enough to apologize profusely to Elizaveta. She waved off his concerns easily and told him it was fine, she'd beat his ass badly enough to repay the favor which Antonio agreed wholeheartedly with.

"I woke up feeling like I'd gone through a meat grinder."

Elizaveta smiled kindly at him.

"Why don't you go wait for Lovino in the car I have something to ask him." Antonio nodded, stopping to pull Lovino's face to his and give him a tender kiss.

"I'm so sorry about this whole thing, I don't know what came over me. Must be the stress of the wedding." He gave Lovino an adoring smile as the Italian rolled his eyes and sent him off.

As soon as Antonio was out of earshot Lovino whirled on Elizaveta.

"What the hell was that about?"

But Elizaveta was already glaring at him, malevolent enough to make him stop.

"I'm going to say something and I'm going to say it once. I don't know what dark nefarious things you did to get that man in your house and I legitimately do not care, but I'm not letting you get rid of him so easily. We've lived beside each other for almost a decade Lovino, I've never seen you smile like you do when that man has you under his arm. So get over whatever stupid guilt you have and let yourself be happy you stupid Italian. If not for yourself than at least for your kids."

When Lovino looked at her thunderstruck she sighed.

"You really are that moronic aren't you? Have you really not noticed how the extra parental figure has done wonders for Feliciano, don't even get me started on how much Marcello has improved."

Lovino swallowed. God, what had he been about to do. Elizaveta seemed satisfied at the horrified look that came over Lovino's face.

"Exactly. Lesson well learned, I expect. Now go on, you don't wanna keep your hubby waiting."

A/N: Phew, that was a close one, I sure hope nothing like that happens ever again.

;)

Well, here's to hoping you enjoyed this chapter and will be back next week. Things are about to get... spicy.


	8. Chapter 8

**PLEASE READ**

_This chapter includes mentions of past marital rape, the beginning and end of which are marked with an asterisk _(*) _so that you may skip it if you so require or desire._

Antonio watched anxiously as Lovino carefully finished decorating the cake. Everyone had been allowed to help make the batter but Lovino only trusted himself to do the frosting. Antonio felt like it'd been hours as Lovino expertly swirled and dotted, creating gorgeous flowers and intricate lace patterns through the multiple tiers, large and elaborate.

Finally, after an eternity it seemed, Lovino pulled away to inspect the cake. Everyone held their breath as he scrutinized every little detail before leaning back giving a single curt nod. The collective sigh of the whole crew and Lovino's family could practically be heard from outside the locale.

With steady hands, Lovino took the small ceramic dolls that had been made in Natalya and Lily's likeness and delicately placed them on the very top of the cake.

He called Carlos and Felix to help him carry the obscenely large creation into the refrigerator where Lovino safely locked it away.

Lovino turned back around clapping his hands together loudly as he finally addressed the other people in the room.

"Wellp, we're done here."

A wild chorus of cheers erupted from them, echoing emptily in the midnight air.

"Wedding's in like nine hours but we'll have to be there early to set up the stations, so go home, get some rest and get ready, we're not in the clear just yet."

Feliks whooped loudly, as he began dragging Tolys out of the building. Arthur and Carlos filed out without another word.

Then all that was left was Lovino, Antonio, their two sons, and the enormous mess that was left in the kitchen.

For a single moment there was nothing but absolute silence and peace.

Then, almost as one, they all shouted "Food fight!", and threw the nearest edible leftover at someone else.

The Great Vargas Food War would pass into legend, along with the fearsome soldiers that partook in the battle. On one side, the so called Germans, composed of Feliciano and Antonio who used their ability to cue each other in secret to their great advantage and was only matched by Lovino and Marcello's sheer chaotic fury.

As they finally did close up the locale, arguing over who had won and still wiping bits of frosting and flour from their clothes Antonio grabbed Lovino by the waist and pulled him back as Marcello and Feliciano left them behind, heading for the car.

Lovino smiled as Antonio buried his face into the crook of his neck, leaving feather light kisses that made breathless laughter spill from his lips.

"I have an idea."

Antonio whispered right next to Lovino's ear.

The Italian shivered, but said nothing as he waited for Antonio to elaborate. He'd seen the way the Spaniard had spent most of the afternoon looking at him.

"How about we give Marcello the keys, and he and Feli go to Carlos' for the night? Then the two of us can take a cab back to the apartment. Get an early start on the celebration, hmm?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow at his husband.

"And what, pray tell, would we do to celebrate?"

There was a glint in Antonio's eyes as he leaned forward and whispered something, voice husky and deep, of which Lovino understood practically nothing because it was in Spanish but his brain was doing over time filling in the short space with every kind of lewd suggestion.

He was grinning.

"Sold." He announced loudly as he extriacted himself from Antonio's arms only long enough to throw the keys at his son.

"See you tomorrow."

Marcello, who never passed up an opportunity to drive, especially not drive away from his parents looking at each other with far too many hearts in their eyes, was speeding away almost before Feliciano managed to clamber into the front seat.

Lovino didn't look back at Antonio but he could only imagine what the Spaniards face looked like.

"Now," Lovino murmured. "What was that you were saying about my ass?"

Later that night Antonio took his time showing Lovino just how much he loved him (quite a bit, as Lovino would find out), and both men drifted off to sleep, naked and content in each other's arms.

* * *

Antonio suppressed a smirk as his fingers deftly moved to fasten his bowtie. From the other side of the room he could hear Lovino grumbling and swearing against his own. As Antonio finished adjusting the knot, he made his way over to Lovino, standing behind him and looking at his husband's face in the mirror.

"Would you like some help, Lovi?" Antonio said sweetly.

Lovino glared at the Spaniard, mouth twisted into a sneer.

"Shut up, you smug bastard." He grumbled as he reached up and yanked Antonio's tie undone. Antonio only laughed as he grabbed Lovino's hips and spun him around, shushing him when the other tried to complain as he reached for Lovino's half done mess of an attempt to tie the bow.

"You know, if you wanted to undress me again, you could've just asked." Antonio said cheekily glancing quickly down at his now undone tie.

Lovino crossed his arms and huffed but complained no further as Antonio easily twisted the ends into a neat bow and and brought Lovino's lips to his for a sweet kiss as he finished. He felt Lovino's hand grasp the back of his neck and he sighed happily giving in a little longer before pulling away and going to redo his own tie.

"Hurry up." Lovino snapped, coming up short with anything to criticize about Antonio's outfit. Every last aspect of his outfit, from the white button up shirt, to the formal black vest, to his shoes and bowtie were immaculately adjusted, worn with the confidence and ease of someone who was well accustomed to the attire.

Lovino wondered for half a moment, when Antonio had learned to dress himself like this before his brain slammed hard on the brakes.

Lovino knew exactly how Antonio had learned to dress himself.

He grasped the thought firmly and shoved it into the deepest, darkest most unvisited recesses of his mind, right along with his memories of his parents, his time in Italy and Viola.

God.

It had been a long time since he thought about Viola.

*"You okay Lovi?" Antonio questioned with wide emerald eyes, like a puppy's.

But Lovino could hardly hear him, the only thing he could think of was the tie around his neck, suffocating him like a noose. His skin prickled where he could feel the harsh cotton of his dress shirt and as he looked at himself in the mirror the only thing he could see was his seventeen year old self; back when Viola could dress him up like a doll and cart him around like a purse, back when the only thing he knew was that anything he did to upset this woman could send him and his parents back to Italy like the garbage bag Viola always made him feel like.

Back when he wasn't allowed to say no.

Before Lovino knew what he was doing he had the front of Antonio's vest in his fists, hyperventilating uncontrollably in an attempt to keep himself from crying. Antonio whispered sweet nothings in Spanish as he gently rocked Lovino.

"Promise me," Lovino gasped out desperately, not even knowing what he wanted Antonio to promise him. That he'd never have to think of that godforsaken woman again? That he wouldn't treat him like she used to? That he wouldn't leave Lovino alone in a strange continent with nothing but two kids to take care of all on his own when he could barely take care of himself?

"Shhh, sh, lo prometo." Antonio took Lovino's face carefully in his hands and angled his face up, so that he could see his bright amber eyes, still stubbornly holding back tears because Lovino had sworn to himself he would never spill another tear for that woman again.

"Yo te lo prometo." Antonio whispered softly.*

A deep knot of tension that Lovino didn't know existed somewhere deep in his core finally let go. Lovino swallowed harshly against the knot in his throat before yanking his Spaniard down and kissing him like a drowning man.

_His_ Spaniard. And though Lovino had been determined to never again be anyone else's property, he found he didn't mind being Antonio's that much.

* * *

"You're late." Feliks said as Antonio and Lovino hurried into the large area where the rest of the crew had already unloaded the majority of the supplies and they were waiting for Lovino's instructions on how to set up.

"Do you really want to wonder why two married men who were alone all night are late?" Lovino said, causing Marcello to hold his hands over Feli's ears as he made a retching noise.

"I seriously did not need to know that guys!"

"Yeah well, we like, totally need to hurry before Ivan kills us. The florist brought in the wrong shade of white and I'm pretty sure his balls will never be the same again."

With that healthy bit of motivation, everyone got to work setting up the tables and serving stations. The event would be waited on, so Lovino sent Feliks, Tolys, Arthur and Antonio to get the lay of the land but when Tolys turned back almost immediately, trembling like a leaf seemingly on the verge of tears Lovino sighed.

"Man the stations with Carlos, I'll take your shift and make sure Ivan doesn't poke his fat nose where it doesn't belong."

Tolys saw an angel where Lovino stood as he fastened his apron around his waist.

He wasn't cruel enough to force the poor boy into the same room as Ivan. Maybe that had something to do with his much unwanted trip down memory lane this morning, but no, he wouldn't have done it anyway. Tolys had suffered more than enough for his lifetime.

As he stepped outside to help the others map out the routes they'd be taking he saw Ivan, pale as a sheet of paper before a stocky man who barely reached eye level with the Russian's torso.

"What do you mean you don't have the giant matryoshka?!" Ivan shrieked terrified.

From experience Lovino knew it would take about five seconds for Ivan's fear to turn into anger so he turned on his heels and made a beeline for the bar which Arthur had already called dibs on manning.

"You're not allowed to drink on the job." Lovino said sternly. He might not have had to say this to someone like Feliks, but Arthur was an absolute lightweight who was convinced he could drink Ivan under a table. He was incorrect.

A fluffy bunny rabbit was likely to kick his ass.

"Yeah, yeah, but the wedding's gonna end at some point." Arthur said in a conspiratorial tone of voice. Well, that was a mess he'd eventually have to deal with but not right now.

Right now he needed to go find out why Antonio was talking with Ivan because Lovino didn't trust Ivan as far as he could throw him.

But as Antonio saw him approaching he quickly changed the subject.

"How's everything running so far?"

Ivan frowned. "Things are not going very well. Half the tables haven't arrived, so I have several dozen chairs and floral centerpieces just laying around waiting for that, Irunya is stuck in traffic, Vash just called that something went wrong with Lily's dress and I don't have the goddamned matryoshka doll!"

At this point, Ivan turned to glare daggers at the man he'd been arguing with earlier who yelped and ran off. Ivan muttered something darkly under his breath.

Then he looked back at Lovino with grudging respect. "The only thing that's ready is the food and the guests are supposed to start arriving in thirty minutes."

With that several men began rolling in large tables and Ivan hurried off to chew them out for being late.

Lovino smirked at Antonio, who only beamed brightly in return.

"This might just be the best day of my life." Lovino said. When Antonio's smile turned into a knowing smirk, Lovino narrowed his eyes at him.

"That's your scheming face, why do you have your scheming face on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Antonio huffed in mock indignation as he danced out of Lovino's reach. "We should get back to the kitchens before we get in the way of something, I don't think Ivan would be very pleased."

And with that they made their way back, checking everything over twice before it was time to attend the wedding.

* * *

A twinkling stream of fairy lights glittered from the high ceiling and reflected off the delicate confetti layered on the floor which quite nearly looked like real snow. White flowers of all kinds were set up on pillars at short intervals down the middle, where a blood red carpet led from the door to an altar, through three painstakingly decorated floral arches. Each was a different color, a pale yellow, then a lovely lavender, and finally a deep red. At the end of the path, a priest awaited beside a truly enormous matryoshka doll.

The doors opened with a sharp crack and the guests all turned as one to see Lily standing alone in the threshold, with her long lace sleeves and sweeping mermaid dress, the skirt embroidered with flowers all along the edges. A short veil covered about half her face, pinned with a little butterfly pin and two small braids that traced the side of her head.

There was a small smile on he face as she began walking down the aisle. She only made it a couple of feet in before encountering the first arch, where Vash stood up to block her path.

"Lily Zwingli, you make a claim for Natalya Branginsky's hand in marriage?"

Lily's face was firm and determined as she gave a curt nod. "I do."

"You shall have to prove yourself worthy of being given such a precious bequest." Vash warned, and though his face was very serious, he graced his little sister with a flash of a smile.

Short as she was, Lily pulled herself up to her full height. "I know I am worthy."

Vash nodded, then pointed up to the yellow arch over them, bringing down a minute yellow flower, and offering it to his sister.

"Yellow is a color for joy and cheer. For warmth and comfort. Your first and easiest vow, to share this joy and this warmth not just as a wife but as a friend, to give and receive in a mutual companionship that goes beyond your romantic desires for as long as you may be together."

Lily nods quickly as she accepts the flower.

"This, I promise."

Vash steps aside to allow his sister to continue her journey, and as he does at the altar someone removes the first and largest of the matryoshka dolls.

Lily's next interruption came in the form of Natalya's older sister, a blonde woman named Irunya standing underneath the lavender arch.

"Are you ready for your second vow?" She asked, her eyes twinkling with a kind light.

"I am ready."

The woman nodded in response before gently plucking a bud that had only just began to blossom and offering it to Lily.

"A lavender rose is representative of enchantment and wonder. That initial spark that sends you reeling, your heart racing, the butterflies fluttering. You must swear to remember these wonders throughout your marriage, and never forget where your love first came from, this is your second vow."

"This, I promise."

Irunya's face broke out into a smile and she lunged forward to hug Lily, barely holding back tears. Lily hugged her back, glad to have Irunya as her new sister-in-law.

Irunya bestowed her the flower and let her pass, blowing her nose into a handkerchief as she does.

While all this has happened the second matryoshka doll was removed.

Finally, Lily reaches the last arch, standing before a frowning Ivan towering over her and blocking her path.

"You wish to marry my sister."

It's not a question but Lily still nods, as determined as ever.

"I will."

Ivan scoffs. "We'll see about that."

And with that he reaches up to remove one of the red roses.

"Red. A color for passion, for desire. Your last vow is simple, that does not mean it is easy. Love her. Love her for her, for what she'll be, for what she was, as unconditionally as you love yourself. Promise to love my sister, and you may have her."

Lily was so choked up she had to try twice before she managed to nod vigorously and whisper: "This, I promise."

Ivan moved out of the way and the final matryoshka was removed revealing Natalya, who Lily hurried off to, taking her hand to help her step out of the doll.

Natalya huffed, not really overjoyed about having to stand inside the matryoshka doll for so long but that was forgotten fairly quickly as she gazed down at her beautiful bride.

_Worth it,_ she thought to herself.

Vash and Ivan moved to hold the crowns over their heads as the priest began the process that would join the two women forever.

* * *

The reception had been a blast of which the crew was able to enjoy maybe fifteen percent of because the rest of the time they were scrambling around serving all three courses and drinks.

Rather than any of them taking on the task alone, Vash, Ivan and Irunya all worked together as masters of ceremony, seamlessly weaving the reception with a multitude of games for the entertainment of everyone.

Of the highlights Antonio had to admit his favorite was either the guests demanding Natalya and Lily kiss for nearly a minute before relenting to shut up and drink their vodka, which Lily hadn't seemed that puset about; or Natalya viciously shattering a plate as hard as she could, scattering pieces everywhere and demanding not a single one be lost, for she believed losing any of them would mean losing a happy year of marriage with Lily.

It was all around, quite a success that did not give any indication of having been planned in under seven days.

* * *

Lovino breathed out, using the momentum to flop forward onto one of the tables, grateful it was finally over. He grunted out as Feliciano flopped on top of him, followed by Marcello and finally Antonio.

"You're gonna break the goddamn table!" Lovino shouted, struggling to throw off any of them. Ivan walked forward, in incredibly high spirits as he saw himself free of his little sister in just a few hours.

He reached for one of the table's legs and gently lifted it, tipping the whole family onto the floor in a sprawl of limbs.

"Hey, the hell was that for?" Lovino complained as he struggled to pull himself from under the pile.

But Ivan could not be brought down from cloud nine.

"You should ask your husband. Or well, soon-to-be-husband. The officiant is waiting like you asked for Antonio. Congratulations in advance."

And with that Ivan left.

Lovino finally threw off both his sons and turned to look at his husband, with a frown.

"What's he talking about?"

Antonio smiled sheepishly and shrugged, before reaching out, offering his hand towards Lovino. Lovino glanced between his hand and his tentative smile, green eyes sparkling reassuringly.

Lovino took his hand and let Antonio pull him right against himself. He gave Lovino a sweet kiss that despite his trepadition the Italian accepted and returned eagerly.

"Lovino Vargas," Antonio said softly as he pulled back, resting his forehead against Lovino's.

"What?" Lovino asked, biting back the insults on the tip of his tongue cause, wow, Antonio looked really good right now and Lovino isn't sure what exactly it is but he's a little dazed.

"Will you marry me?"

It takes Lovino a moment to realize what Antonio has said, as he rocks him side to side, arms wrapped around his waist.

"What?" Lovino's not sure he actually managed to say anything.

"Will you let me promise you every day of my life? Will you let me swear to stand by you through whatever the future holds?"

Lovino's not entirely convinced he hasn't died and gone to heaven.

When he looks up Antonio is offering him a silver band that Lovino has no idea where he got the money for and he frankly does not care.

He nods, and not once throughout the incredibly short ceremony they had, as workers rolled away tables and packed the mantels and decorations all around them, with Marcello and Feliciano holding the crowns Ivan let them borrow over their heads, Feliciano needing to stand on a chair to reach, did Lovino think about anything but how much he loved this stupid, wonderful, silly, endearing, infuriating Spaniard.

He can't believe after everything he's suffered throughout his entire life, at last he's being allowed happiness.

Of course it couldn't last.

* * *

Somehow time escaped the four of them as they lazily watched the crew strip the place of its last decorations, fantasizing what they would do with the new money.

Lovino had gleefully counted and recounted the bills he'd be able to pay, Feliciano had tried to decide which art supply and or musical instrument and or book he wanted the most, Marcello had already begun planning in his head how to use it for his and Peter's anniversary and Antonio…

Antonio was just happy to see his family happy.

In the back of his mind he was squaring off a few hundred dollars for a new table and couch, to have a handy man look at the broken hinges on the door and cabinet but mostly he was enjoying seeing his favorite people in the world so happy.

They were walking back to the apartment, having lost the car to Feliks who, for some convoluted reason that Antonio didn't bother trying to understand had lost his ride.

Antonio was walking a few paces behind Marcello and Feliciano, with Lovino under his arm, alternating between admiring the way the light bounced off his wedding ring and the simply glorious figure his husband cut.

And even though he'd been under the impression they were married until just recently, he felt a great weight off his shoulders having done the ceremony again. He may not have his memories of his first wedding but he'd never forget tonight. He was once more a hundred percent confident in calling Lovino his husband and there were certain things he really wanted to do as newlyweds, mainly a recreation of the wedding night he doesn't remember.

"When we get home," Antonio whispers hotly against the shell of Lovino's ear and the Italian goes bright red at the murmured words that follow, shivering from head to foot before trying to whack Antonio's face away, missing by a large margin.

"Urghh," Marcello makes a particularly loud retching noise as he reached down to cover Feliciano's eyes and ears as best he could. Eventually he settled for giving his brother a piggyback ride despite the boy being much too old for it. The sight made Antonio's eyes shine brightly.

"Can I carry you?" He asked Lovino, nearly jumping with the excitement of it. Lovino quickly shook his head, dizzying himself in the process and almost falling over.

"Don't you dare try you stupid bastard." He said, with a lazy smile on his face as Antonio eased him off the ground and safely into his arms, ready to carry him up the stairs to the building's lobby. Antonio nuzzled one last kiss into Lovino's neck before turning forward.

"Francis!" He called out joyfully, eyes suddenly shining with mirth.

There was a limo parked in front of their apartment complex, in the middle of the road where it probably shouldn't be but who was going to tell the driver to move.

Leaning against the side of it were two men, one a blond with baby blue eyes dressed elegantly, and beside him a white haired nearly red eyed albino in a pristine white suit that made him look like a dick.

The blond looked back at Antonio with great interest as the Spaniard carefully put Lovino down in order to be able to wave to them.

"It's been so long Francis, Gilbert, would you like to come up?" Antonio questioned pointing up to where his home awaited on the thirteenth floor.

Gilbert snorts out a laugh and Francis smiles finding the entire situation wildly amusing.

Suddenly Antonio goes very still, his jaw hanging open just a bit.

"You're…" He whispers softly. "You're Francis Bonnefoy and Gilbert Beilschmidt."

He blinked owlishly as if the world was new around him, and to a certain degree it was.

He turned quickly back to the men, his face breaking out into a grin as he let out a joyful whoop.

"I remember!"

Behind him he doesn't see Marcello and Feliciano's faces falling.

"Oh, it's all coming back to me. I'm Antonio Fernández Carriedo, you two are my best friends, I have a yacht and a company and money-"

He stops dead in his tracks.

"Money!"

He's practically sparking with excitement as he turns around to face Lovino, almost delirious in his joy.

"I have so much money! Oh, Lovi, the business is saved, I'll get you a new building, industrial equipment, I'll build you a catering empire!"

Without any warning he's picking Lovino up by his waist twirling him around, once…

Twice...

He stops.

Slowly he puts Lovino down, eyes clouded with doubt for the first time.

"You're…" Antonio can barely say it, it's so preposterous.

"You're not my husband."

But it's true.

Lovino's eyes remain stubbornly glued to the ground as Antonio reels back a step like he was slapped. He scrambles desperately to find anyway to reconcile everything he's known for the past two months of his life with these new disorienting recollections.

He's unable to.

He takes another step back, dumbstruck.

"We're… not married." Antonio stumbles over the words, throat constraining as he finally realizes.

Oh.

_Oh._

He feels tears prick at his eyes as he tries not to choke on his own sobs.

"Lovino," his voice breaks. Lovino flinches.

Antonio reaches, hesitates, and then slides his hands to hold Lovino's face. They fit there, they feel _right_, they feel like they _belong_, so why won't his hus- Lovino look at him. He coerces Lovino gaze up to meet his own and his heart shatters again as he sees Lovino's just as near to tears as he is, but his jaw is set tight and his eyes are fierce and resolute, stubborn and unmovable as Lovino's always been, even when he knows he won't win.

Antonio can't stand it. This can't be right, this can't.

"Lovino," He says again, and this time he's pleading, holding desperately to Lovino's hand, feeling the wedding band under his fingers.

"Please, please just… Just tell me they're wrong, tell me they're lying and I'll believe you. I'll stay, _mi amor_, please just say it, I just need you to say it…"

Antonio almost can't believe his eyes as Lovino yanks himself away, arms crossed over his chest tightly.

"Get out of my face you bastard." He spits out, barely managing not to choke on a sob.

Antonio can't breathe, and he bites down hard on his lip to keep from screaming.

No.

No.

"Fine!" He says viciously.

He stands there, hands fisted at his side, trembling, pleading with the universe to let Lovino suddenly shout, tell him not to leave, to stay, to tell him Francis and Gilbert are figments of his imagination.

He doesn't.

So Antonio whirls around and charges to the limousine with the sudden alien realization that it's his own, hearing Francis and Gilbert get in before him.

He's barely made it to his seat, barely closed the door behind him, barely registered that Gilbert's about to say something stupid and Gilbertish when the strangled cry of pain finally manages to wrench it's way out of his throat.

He sits there, shuddering violently as he keeps trying to hold back wrecked sobs. He wraps his arms tightly feeling the hot tears start to make their way down his face and he breaks, finally sobbing in earnest, hiccuping and wheezing, gasping and whining high pitched and loud and he can't control any of it and he doesn't want to cause he feels like he left his heart has dropped out of his chest and fallen onto the middle of the road getting run over and over again by passing cars.

He can sense the tense atmosphere of his friends, hears Gilbert saying, "What the fuck is wrong with him?" before Francis slaps the German's arm harshly and moves to console Antonio.

He wraps his arms around his friend and tries to rock him through, shushing him quietly, Gilbert following soon after by rubbing comforting circles onto Antonio's back.

Back by the apartment complex, Lovino has a tight hold on Marcello and Feliciano's wrists as they try to get away and chase after the limo.

Feliciano is tugging weakly, glancing between the receding lights and his father with a defeated depressed air about him.

Marcello is, predictably, angry.

"Why'd you let him go?" He shouts, finally managing to wrench his arm away from Lovino.

"Why'd you do something so stupid, he was gonna stay-"

"He doesn't belong to me." Lovino seethed out furiously, enough for Marcello to be paralyzed for a moment.

Then Lovino deflates, just for an instant and he looks out longingly at the road.

"He'd never be happy with us." He murmurs, his words almost lost in the night.

Then he turns and charges up the stairs to the lobby, back to the life he knows he deserves, his shitty apartment and his shitty part time jobs and his shitty business, and two kids he's never known how to take care of and desperately wants better things for. He puts behind the two month illusion he'd had that maybe, maybe, he didn't have to be miserable for the rest of his life and faced his reality with the same vicious determination he always has.

A/N:

Dun, _dun_, _**dun**_.

Hi, and welcome to the author had no idea she was going to write that particular scene towards the beginning of the chapter and is suddenly faced with the need to change the rating of her story. I knew, practically from the very beginning of writing this some two years ago, what the nature of Lovino's relationship with his ex-wife was, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would actually work its way into the story, I always thought it'd be one of those things I knew as an author that readers wouldn't. Just goes to show that in anything I write the characters do whatever they want.

Also, to anyone who said two weddings in a single chapter is excessive *blows raspberry*. I had a lot of fun researching some Russian wedding traditions to include. I put my own little spin on the whole "kidnapping the bride and holding her for ransom", with Lily having to pay in vows rather than money or alcohol. The giant matryoshka was an idea my friend suggested and it was too hilarious to pass up. Forcing the couple to kiss for a prolonged time to sweeten the guests' drinks is also a Russian tradition, as well as shattering a plate in as many pieces as you possibly can because each piece means a happy year of marriage. Natalya wanted to pick them all up so she could put them in a jar as a keepsake.

Also, also, my lovely wifey drew a picture of Lily in her wedding dress because I suck at drawing and she loves me, so here's that. (I hope it shows up I'm not a hundred percent sure it will, I suck at managing this site.)

This has been a hell of a long author's note but the point is, I hope you liked that chapter, it was a doozy, wasn't it? I promise things get better if you tune in next week :)


	9. Chapter 9

"Okay, I'll bite. What the hell is wrong with him?"

Gilbert waved in the general direction of Antonio, moping quietly and staring off into the sea from the yacht's highest deck, as he had been doing for nearly three hours.

Francis slapped his hand away with a frown. "There's nothing wrong with him, you tactless German."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"Really? If I remember correctly, my best friend got up at four thirty in the morning, made his own bed, tried to cook breakfast for four people and proceeded to clean the activity room. He got up twice to get _junk_ food, he hasn't given a single order to his crew, he hasn't spoken a word to either of us."

Francis gave him an unimpressed look.

"He is clearly suffering from some level of Stockholm Syndrome, it's perfectly understandable behaviour."

Gilbert huffed. "Yeah right, perfectly understandable my ass. He ought to be celebrating, not mourning."

Francis groaned loudly, muttering something along the lines of "ta gueule", before standing up and brushing off some nonexistent dust from his shoulders.

"Antonio is in a state of shock, he has suffered severe psychological trauma. He needs us to provide support for him, he does not need our judgement."

Gilbert snorted to indicate his lack of appreciation towards Francis at the moment, but he got up to follow the Frenchman anyway, suppressing his frown. Even if he didn't understand what was going on, he cared about Antonio, of course he did; the three of them were practically raised together, thick as thieves since they were in diapers. Francis had always been the most sensible out of the three of them so Gilbert trusted him to handle this better than he trusted himself.

The two men made their way up the small staircase that led to the landing. They stopped just before the opening, watching Antonio's gaze meander emptily through the waves.

"You go." Francis whispered, gently placing his hand on the small of Gilbert's back and shoving him forward. Gilbert's eyes just about popped out of his head, mouthing as aggressively as he could: "Me?!"

Francis nodded firmly, already beginning to turn back.

"Yes, you, someone who has known Antonio a solid thirty years is an eligible candidate to provide emotional aid in a time of great distress."

"What gives you that idea?" Gilbert hisses between his teeth, but Francis is already gone, leaving Gilbert alone with Antonio, who had yet to notice he had company.

Gilbert grumbled angrily but shook it off. Fuck it, his friend needed him.

Even still, he wasn't a hundred percent sure what he was going to do until he was leaning on the railing next to Antonio who did not so much as hum in acknowledgement.

After a long deliberate pause he turned to his friend.

"Bitches, amirite?"

Antonio forced out a chuckle that looked painful and avoided Gilbert's eyes.

Gilbert sighed, trying to find what it was that Antonio was looking at out in the distance.

"Listen, let's just be honest here. I don't get it, I really don't, but you're my friend, and I'm here for you, even if I don't understand."

Antonio doesn't respond.

Gilbert frowns and licks his lips.

"Francis thinks you're working through trauma." He finally says, beginning cautiously and keeping an attentive eye on Antonio as he does. The words are out of his mouth before he's really had a chance to think them through that well but he knows they're the truth as he says it.

"I don't think he's right though."

He can see Antonio swallow harshly out of the corner of his eye and he plows forward because no he doesn't get it, he really doesn't, but he knows exactly what's going on anyway.

"You're not hurt because he kept you. You're hurt because he didn't let you stay."

Antonio didn't say anything for so long that Gilbert almost doubted that he had said the right thing but then:

"I was a father."

It was the only thing Antonio said.

It was the only thing Antonio needed to say.

Gilbert sighed and reached over to put his arm around the Spaniard's shoulder. Antonio leaned practically his entire weight on his friend and cried. Not the same broken uncontrollable sobs that had taken hold of him in the limo, but quiet tears that streaked his face continually as Gilbert rubbed soothing circles into his arms, shushing him quietly.

* * *

Lovino woke up to the lovely sensation of having water poured over him. He spluttered violently as he lurched out of bed, blinking furiously to try and make out his attacker through his disorientation.

"Get up, you're like, totally late."

"How'd you even get in here?" Lovino grumbled under his breath as the world finally righted itself and he saw Feliks standing there inspecting his freshly manicured nails as he dropped the now empty bottle.

"I asked Marcello to leave the door open, in case, you know, noon rolled around and you hadn't dragged your lazy ass outta bed yet. I've called half a dozen times, in case you hadn't noticed."

Lovino looked around in confusion, finally noticing the sun angrily shining through his window, upset at having been unable to get him up any sooner.

When Lovino looked back at Feliks, he found his friend had an odd look on his face, something bordering on sadness. Or pity.

"Listen, I understand if-"

"We're not talking about it." Lovino cut Feliks off. He tried to meet Feliks eyes but he found himself unable to face the unimpressed look his best friend was leveling at him, so he looks away. "Not now, not ever."

Feliks pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to object for half a moment before rolling his eyes.

"Cool, we're taking the river in Egypt route. Well, in that case, I don't feel bad about this." Feliks said as he promptly walked over to Lovino's wardrobe and yanked it open, pulling out a button up shirt and slacks which he shoved into Lovino's chest rather more harshly than was strictly necessary.

"Get dressed, we have three different banks to go make deposits at, in exactly two minutes we're going to be late to talk to the lawyer, and you haven't even started on the catering for Feli's school's art exhibit and that's in two days."

Lovino made a sound half way between a sigh and a groan as he let himself fall back on the bed, his true exhaustion managing to bleed out through his facade for a moment as he scrubbed viciously at his face. It had been almost a week since the wedding and Lovino was pretty sure he hadn't been this tired in years, not since Marcello was just a little shit, and quite involuntarily he found himself wishing, wishing for-

"God, I wish Antonio was-"

Lovino realized what he was saying a second too late, snapping his mouth close and pointedly turning away from Feliks' smug look as he sashayed out the bedroom door, slamming it behind him.

"_River in Egypt_," Lovino faintly heard singsonged through the door.

He scrunched up his face, making mocking babbling sounds at the wall he knew Feliks was behind. A sharp bang sounded from that exact spot, making Lovino jump.

"Get dressed already, we're officially late to see the lawyer as of thirty seconds ago."

* * *

"What now?" Francis asked, quickly retreating from where he had been peeking through the curtains at Antonio having dinner all by his lonesome. Or more accurately, where he was staring at the same plate that had been before him for thirty minutes, of which he had consumed absolutely nothing.

Even the workers were starting to get worried, and that ought to have tipped anyone off that something was seriously wrong because nearly all of them had long standing beef with Antonio.

Gilbert grumbled annoyedly, in the process of taking a long swig from the beer bottle in his hand. It had been a while since he had felt the need to drink quite this compulsively outside of festivities. There certainly wasn't anything to be celebrating around here.

_Yet._

"Well, we tried it your way you useless sap, now sit down and take notes from the master. This is how you cheer someone up."

Gilbert chugged the remains of the beer bottle, tossed it behind him carelessly leaving Francis to dive after it as he threw open the doors to Antonio's dining room.

The Spaniard looked up, faintly startled.

"Gilbert?"

"On account of you being a terrible moper, we're officially commencing my tried and true regime of boobs, booze and bets." Gilbert paused, his brow suddenly furrowed. "Or I guess in your case it's now dicks, drinks and dice. Who cares, not me, let's go."

Antonio opened his mouth to complain but Gilbert was having none of that as he snapped at his fingers at the waitress waiting patiently by the door with the second beer bottle he had ordered.

He handed it to Antonio, who held it gingerly for a moment, the response falling automatically from his lips.

"Gilbert, I don't drink."

When Gilbert simply blinked back at him, Antonio's brain caught up with his mouth.

He stared at the bottle in his hands. Half his brain was telling him he shouldn't touch it and the other was busy collapsing over the fact Lov-

He couldn't even think his name.

Antonio's grip on the bottle tightened as did his resolve. This was just another lie, another piece of himself Lovino had taken from him. Well, Lovino wasn't here and he wasn't coming back. If Gilbert said he wanted to party, well when had Antonio ever turned down an offer like that?

He knocked back the bottle, hearing Gilbert cheering him on as if he were very far away, or underwater. It seemed weird to him now, the taste of alcohol after so long but he fought back a grimace and when he pulled the bottle away he grinned lopsidedly at Gilbert, who was already making the to-do list, rattling off the items to thin air but somehow they'd get accomplished anyway.

Antonio used to think it was like magic. He knows better now.

The smile hurts and the beer is bitter, but he remembers loving parties, as alien and disconnected as the memory may seem now; and besides, who could possibly know him better than Gilbert.

* * *

Lovino just stood there, staring in horrified dismay at the tray of burnt quiches.

Behind him he could tell the rest of his crew were desperately trying to decide how viable climbing out the window would be or if they should just risk booking it out the front door.

"Well, for once it wasn't me." Arthur said gleefully, before Feliks smacked his arm.

"Maybe you need a break-" Feliks began softly, taking a careful step in Lovio's direction but he stopped quickly, mostly because Lovino took the tray with the quiches on it and threw it across the room as hard as he could causing a great clatter as it hit the wall.

He stood there, facing away from Feliks, shoulders shaking with something, though Feliks couldn't tell if it was fury or tears or a nervous breakdown.

But then it seemed Lovino was done, he folded in on himself, resting his upper body on the table and encasing his head in his arms. A broken pitiful sound ripped it's way out of Lovino's throat and just when Feliks was about to go offer his friend some emotional support, Lovino pushed himself off the surface of the table.

Eyes red and empty, Lovino waved him off before he could get a single word in. "Finish the damn thing without me, I'm going home."

He pushed past everyone and out the door.

Carlos waited two seconds before shrugging it off and snapping off orders to Tolys to get restarted on that batch.

"Oh, and Arthur, could you throw out the rest of the failed attempts?"

Arthur nodded curtly and began piling up the five other batches Lovino had damaged in some way. Arthur wasn't a stranger to making the occasional completely inedible piece of carbon so he wasn't sure what Lovino was so upset about.

* * *

Antonio sat beside Francis on a large couch overlooking the stage where Gilbert had set up the dozen or so performers he had hired for the occasion. There was a DJ somewhere Antonio couldn't see blasting trash pop from a set of speakers Antonio doesn't remember owning and a light show display that he is sure did not exist on his boat prior to the evening.

Gilbert himself was seated at a bar some ways away, with a different woman draped on each arm and an array of shots he was working through excessively quickly.

Antonio sighed, the headache that had been slowly creeping up on him all night just out of reach, and tried another sip from the bottle he had in his hand. It was the same bottle he'd been trying to work his way through all night but despite his most valiant efforts he had barely made a dent.

Truth be told he found himself nauseous at the idea of drinking. This did not escape Francis' notice.

"Perhaps you would prefer something else, Antoine." Francis said, not that Antonio could hear him over the music. There was a woman lying by the Frenchman's side. Occasionally Francis would absently run his hands through her hair or gently caress her arms, but he ignored her for the most part.

Antonio had already turned down two women who had approached with intentions of being by his side.

Francis sighed and reached over to pull the bottle out from his friends hands. Antonio turned to complain reflexively but Francis rolled his eyes. "Please, I can tell you don't want this."

He was right of course.

Antonio ran his eyes over the stage again but it wasn't in the least bit appetizing to him. Not the gaggle of women (and a few cherry picked men) dancing, not the flashing colored lights or deafening music.

He blinked, suddenly realizing there was a man before him. Tall and thin and smirking , with fluffy brown hair that hung over his face and dark eyes.

Antonio swallowed harshly.

"A little birdie told me you were in need of a little pick me up."

Antonio's eyes flit over to where Gilbert is flashing him two thumbs up with a stupid grin before being insistently pulled away by the two women to God knows where.

He doesn't know why but he doesn't turn the man away, he lets him stretch out beside him like the woman on Francis side, lets him talk about how big and strong he is as he caresses Antonio's biceps and buries his face into his neck and Antonio can't decide whether it makes him feel worse or better but it makes him feel something and that's a hell of a lot more than he can say for the past few days.

He mostly listens to Francis talk for the rest of the evening trying hard not to think about the fcat that he has a man draped over him like a cat.

* * *

Lovino knows he's screwed the second he hears the door close and only one pair of footsteps jump over the couch. He turns to face away from his bedroom door as it opens and someone flipped the light switch. Lovino winces at the brightness but doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that.

"You are an ass."

It's accompanied by having his pillow yanked out from under his head and being smacked with it.

"And you missed Feliciano's art exhibit. I had to get him ice cream on the way home to cheer him up."

Lovino drags his head up just long enough to glare at Marcello before flopping back down. "Feliciano has an art exhibit every other month, I think I'm allowed to skip at least one."

The very notion was ridiculous because Lovino would've never missed anything related to Feliciano ever. Or at least he wouldn't a week ago.

"You're acting like a moody teenager and that's coming from me."

Lovino's reply is muffled by the pile of blankets his face is resting on and so Marcello wrestles those out from under him as well.

Lovino does little more than roll away.

"You've gotta stop this. Number one, it's unhealthy, number two you've got two kids and one of those happens to be me. If you're gonna pretend you don't miss him, how about you do a better job of it."

Lovino doesn't respond.

Marcello sighs.

"You made your choice, dad. You left everyone else to deal with it. The least you could is deal with it yourself."

The door opens again and in a few seconds Feliciano is scampering past Marcello and jumping onto the bed. He uses both arms to shake Lovino as hard as he can.

"You missed the exhibit!" He mock wailed but when he saw it wasn't working he quickly switched to dropping his entire weight over Lovino's back. Lovino huffed but couldn't even be bothered to try and throw him off.

"When's Papi coming back?"

Lovino finally sat up, just in time to stare back into the wide chocolate brown eyes of his youngest son. He glanced momentarily at Marcello, who had his arms crossed and was leaning on the doorframe.

"Number one, he was never your dad. Number two, Feliciano you know damn well he's not coming back."

Feliciano pouted, his brow furrowed angrily and it took everything in Lovino not to laugh at his son.

"He is too my dad. And if he's not coming back then we're going to go get him."

Lovino sighed as he ran his hands over his face, reminding himself how much he loved his son so he wouldn't yell at him. Never mind the fact that Lovino's heart was being clawed to shreds at the moment.

"Feliciano, even if we managed to find him at this point, there's no guarantee he'll want to come back."

Feliciano smiled at him like he'd said something silly.

"Of course there is. He loves us."

Just as Lovino was going to object Feliciano snatched his hand out of the air and jangled it in front of Lovino's face, where he had, to this day, refused to remove the wedding band Antonio had given him.

Lovino stared at his youngest, and then up to Marcello, who had a forlorn look in his eyes, like he wished he could share Feliciano's optimism about the situation.

Lovino made up his mind.

He tightened his hand into a fist over Feliciano's fingers, glancing behind the boy to spy his reflection in the mirror.

"We're going after your dad."

Marcello let out a joyous whoop and picked Feliciano up off the bed, spinning him around until the poor boy was dizzy.

"Best little brother ever!"

* * *

"Antonio, the least you could is leave the docks. Don't pretend I don't know why we've stayed. He's not coming back. And the first step to admitting that is leaving."

Antonio deflated.

"I know it's just…"

Antonio trails off and just when Francis thinks he's not going to get any further response Antonio speaks up again.

"It's not just him. I mean, I miss him of course I do, so much it hurts but… I miss all of them, Francis. They were my family."

The Frenchman is surprised Antonio is holding himself together so well. The last time he'd come even close to mentioning the children he had locked himself in his room the rest of the day and most of the following morning.

Francis sits down next to his friend.

"Tell me about them."

Antonio whips his head back, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Weren't you just trying to keep me from wallowing in the past?"

Francis shrugged.

"Healing is complicated. You might need this."

"I-" Antonio sighs.

"They're… they were Marcello and Feliciano. Marcello was going to be a senior next year and Feli's eleventh birthday was just a few weeks ago. Oh, Francis you would've loved him he's so talented and smart and he had this little friend of his, you would've loved playing matchmaker-"

Antonio doesn't shut up for about another hour but it's fine. Twice Francis catches him talking about events that clearly could not have happened given the fact that Antonio hadn't been there, fabrications this Lovino must have told him but Antonio is smiling easily and his eyes have lit up for the first time in days and Francis can't bring himself to stop him. He begins to doubt, for the first time that Antonio will ever get over this.

* * *

As they make their way to the docks Lovino takes a moment to think about how ill prepared he is. It's been a week, for all he knows, Antonio is off somewhere on the coast of Spain sipping margaritas with those two jerkwads that came to pick him up and the only thing he's going off of his Feliciano's unwavering faith. Still he has to give his kid credit for something because even as far away as he was, he recognizes that monstrosity of a boat. Marcello's about to cheer again when they realize the boat is starting to sail away.

"Shit." He vaguely registers Feliciano reaching up to pinch him, before Marcello says. "I got it."

Two and a half minutes later and Lovino is left wondering how exactly he let Marcello coerce him into this plan as he stares at the two jet skis he's just bought, probably illegally, which bit out a sizeable chunk of the wedding earnings.

"Remind me again why I'm doing this." Lovino says as he fits a life vest over himself. From where he was helping Feliciano into his own, Marcello snickered. Feliciano for his part answered: "Because you're madly in love and the man of your dreams is sailing away on a very expensive boat."

Lovino hummed in recognition. Yeah, that was it.

"We all understand that this is a terrible idea, right?"

"Yep." Both his boys chorused.

"Alright then."

And off they went.

* * *

"You did the right thing, Antonio." Francis said solemnly. From where he was standing on the other side of their friend Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Francis, seriously, are you ever going to cut it out with the sap fest? We've barely left shore, give the man some peace." Antonio sighed, as he thought about how the shore must already be a barely visible strip on the horizon.

"It'll be fine, guys." Antonio said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Besides Francis is right. I'm grateful for both of your support but it's time I move on with my life. My real life."

"Sir," The three of them turned around to see the co-captain gasping for breath, having clearly just run all the way.

"What is it?" Antonio asked. The man finally pulled himself together, standing straight to address Antonio.

"Sir, I'm not exactly sure how to say this but there appear to be two jet skis trying to catch up with the boat."

Antonio blinked.

"What?"

"I know, sir, but we-"

Antonio wasn't listening anymore.

He had pushed past the man and began walking purposefully outside, having been down in his room, having been unable to watch the fading lights of the coast as they sailed away. But now, as he threw himself against the railing, leaning over as far as he dared, for a brief moment getting a terrifying flashback to when he had toppled off this very spot but it lasts about half a second before he was squinting at the horizon determinedly, and the two specks of light slowly but surely making their way to where he was.

It's a moment of absolute delirium as he crashes around the pool deck searching desperately for a life vest. His thoughts chant over and over, _He__, came back for me, Lovi came back._

He'd barely found one, barely managed to wrench it over his head when he hears a faint call in the distance.

"Hey! You stupid Spaniard! I changed my mind."

Antonio shouts, practically in tears as he leans over once more to tell Lovino a hundred things but mostly that he loves him, good Lord he loves him so much, but when he does he doesn't see him, just Marcello and Feliciano on the jet ski beside Lovino's empty one shouting themselves hoarse and pointing at the water.

"Antonio, wait what are you doing?!" He's pretty sure it was Francis that called out to him but he was already half way through the motion of leaping over the rail.

"Lovino!"

There was a resounding splash as he fell into the water, he turned around quickly trying to find his husband before he suddenly felt the back of his head get splashed with water.

He whipped around and finally saw him.

"You big doofus, you really thought I came out here without a life jac-" Lovino's mouth was suddenly too busy getting reacquainted with Antonio's to continue the sentence.

"I swear," Antonio says in between kissing Lovino's face and spitting out seawater and he's not sure how romantic this is but he doesn't care.

"On everything holy, I'm never leaving you again."

He takes his time to kiss Lovino deeply again before the Italian physically yanks him off him. He gives Antonio a crooked smile.

"Trust me, I'm never letting you go again."

And they were kissing again and Antonio didn't care that they were floating out in the middle of the ocean beside his yacht, because this past week had been nothing short of miserable and he'd been about three seconds from calling a helicopter to have him delivered to Lovino's doorstep, a hundred percent ready to beg.

"Gross, get a room." Marcello revs up the jet ski where he's sitting with Feliciano, sending a wave at his fathers. Antonio suddenly snaps a glare in Lovino's direction. "You brought my kids out on a jet ski in the middle of the night?!"

Lovino smiled and tried to hide how fucking good it was to hear Antonio's voice again.

"Yeah, yeah, whine about it later, after we get on that cozy little yacht of yours how about."

Already the crew were throwing down lines for their little family.

Lovino suddenly put his arm around Antonio, as Marcello and Lovino were hauled onto the ship and a second line was thrown down for them. Antonio turned to look at his husband.

"I mean it. I love you, and I might be an idiot, but I'm never going to be that idiotic again."

Antonio smiles, green eyes twinkling. "Oh, I know." He kisses Lovino, partly because he wants to reassure him but mostly because he can and that in itself is a blessing he doesn't ever want to take lightly again.

A/N: Good Lord, I'm not dead. Don't let anyone tell you highschool doesn't suck major ass. I'm so unbelievably sorry for missing last week's update, I want y'all to know that when I say I'm buried in school work I literally mean I can barely see my bed under the pile of books and papers.

I'm not a hundred percent happy with how this chapter, I cranked it out in a half delirious state today while trying not to cry over the fact that I've been trying to finish my history test literally all day and I'm barely halfway done and I think it kinda shows, so I'm probably going to come back and polish it up a little bit later.

The point is, our end goal is near, only the epilogue left and we're done my friends, so I'll see you next week, I swear on my grave I won't miss it again, and I hope you have a slightly less shitty week than I do.


	10. Epilogue

"Lovi, darling, where did you put my keys?"

Lovino's disembodied voice called out from down the hall. "I haven't touched your damn keys."

Antonio frowned. After a short moment of deliberation he stuck his tongue out at the hall and went back to searching the barren kitchen.

"I saw that!"

"You did not!"

"Oh yeah, then how did I know you did it."

Antonio stayed quiet. The Spaniard heard footsteps approach but he steadfastly ignored them as he ducked under the table to see if maybe he had accidentally knocked them over.

"Antonio, you just got those keys five seconds ago, how did you lose them already?"

Antonio turned his head just far enough to glare at Lovino. "Not. Helping."

Lovino rolled his eyes as he reached down to ghost a hand over the Spaniard's ass.

Antonio startled, ready to give Lovino a piece of his mind when he suddenly heard the sharp telltale jingle of the object of his inquiry. He felt his face burn with embarrassment and he could practically hear Lovino's smug grin.

He got up quickly and snatched the keychain from Lovino's hand without meeting his gaze before beginning to stride out the door with a mumbled: "I'm going to be late to pick up the boys."

Just as he reached the door Lovino called out to him.

"Hey,"

Antonio stopped, and when Lovino didn't continue turned around, curiosity getting the better of him.

Lovino was smiling Antonio's favorite smile, the one where it looked like his entire being was involved, leaning against the counter, relaxed in a way Antonio hadn't seen him since their wedding, his eyes crinkling at the corners and shining brightly.

"I love you."

Antonio being melted, an entirely involuntary smile taking over his face, but one that he was not in the least bit upset about.

"I love you too."

Still smiling, Lovino rolled his eyes. "Weren't you about to be late?"

Antonio cursed quietly under his breath, realizing his body had already gravitated towards Lovino as it seemed to do whenever he thought of the other man.

"Get some bread on the way back, we're running out."

Antonio added it to the mental checklist as he locked the door behind him and left Lovino to finish unpacking. It had taken a surprising amount of convincing to get Lovino to sell the apartment and move out into a home appropriately sized for a four person family.

For all Lovino whined about wanting nice things he was very adverse to using Antonio's money for it; which was plain stupid because what else would Antonio want to do with the money other than use it for his family? Money might not buy happiness, but it went long ways for comfort and that was the least Antonio could do for his favorite people ever.

Speaking of some of those, Antonio pulled up to the school's parking lot, keeping an eye out for the copper haired head of his eldest son.

He spotted him eventually, walking very slowly beside the recognizable figure of Peter, who had no tolerance for such shenanigans and was looping around him as they made their way over to the car. When they made it Peter gave Antonio an enthusiastic greeting before standing on his toes to give Marcello a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'll see you on Monday then, dear?"

Marcello grinned like the lovestruck fool he was.

"Only if I can keep myself away."

Peter scrunched up his face but you could still see the smile. He acquiesced Marcello's request for one more kiss before wandering back to the building waving and calling out: "Goodbye, Mr. Vargas."

As he started the car he heard Marcello snigger beside him. He shot a glance at his son. "What's so funny, hmm?"

Marcello just stared back, like a cat whose caught the canary.

"You always have a look on your face like you won the lottery whenever someone calls you Mr. Vargas."

Antonio shook his head.

"The secret is, Marcello," Antonio whispered, low and conspiratorialy. "That I have."

Marcello groaned loudly. "Please not another rant about how lucky you are to have married dad, it's like the third one this week."

Antonio pulled up to his second stop, Feliciano's school, from which he'd soon be graduating. It was kinda crazy to realize he'd be starting middle school in just a few months.

He could already see where the boy was, by the outside of the building, but he had to say goodbye to about fifteen different friends so Antonio let him be.

Antonio was careful to oh-so-conveniently not notice Feliciano kiss Ludwig's cheek before starting to skip towards the car. Antonio had recently had the pleasure of meeting the boy and he and Feliciano were simply adorable. Lovino couldn't get pissed if Antonio never saw anything, now could he?

Feliciano got in the car, already talking about five disjointed subjects that he interwove into each other such so that they made a single topic, then split back up into about ten that somehow ended up being about pasta.

Antonio was nearly back home before he remembered the bread and had to turn back, much to the disgruntlement of both his sons, who had yet to see the new house and were full to bursting with excitement about it.

Fifteen minutes later they were back on track and nearing the house.

The boys stared, their faces pressed up against their windows as they stared at the passing houses in the neighborhood, minds whirling with possibilities.

It made Antonio giddy, even having already seen the house himself. They were infectious, the two of them.

When Antonio started veering into the driveway, he barely had two seconds to brake before the both of them had leapt out of the car, barely avoiding tripping over themselves in their hurry.

Antonio followed them after parking the car and found them shouting to each other from different sections of the house, having apparently gone for the divide and conquer tactic of exploring the new environment.

Antonio dropped his keys off at the bowl Lovino had put out for him while he was gone and for the sake of forgiveness, he pretended not to hear Lovino snicker at the clink of ceramic.

Instead he walked up to his husband, wrapping his arms around his torso from behind and leaning over his shoulder to inspect the pot of pasta he was stirring, while taking advantage of the snuggling opportunities.

As Lovino began adding the sauce, Antonio's mouth watered. "Smells so good."

"What's you expect, ah? Now call the little shits and tell them to set the table."

Antonio had quite some trouble dragging Feliciano from his soon to be room, which he was already thinking about how to decorate and Marcello thrown on the floor, making the motions for the creation of a snow angel to revel in the fact that he had space to do so.

But eventually, as always, their hunger won out and they followed Antonio to the table, a brand new dining set that might just bring Antonio to tears for the third time.

Lovino comes in from the kitchen carrying the steaming pot and as they sit down to say grace Antonio breathes deeply and tries to think, for just a moment, how grateful he is to have these people in hif life again, who he loved them so much more than himself.

As soon as they're done, he stands up, ignoring the odd look from Marcello, who already had a bite of food in his mouth.

He goes around the table, first pressing a kiss to the crown of Feliciano's head, then Marcello and then he stoops down for a short but sweet kiss with Lovino. He could feel the Italian smiling against his lips and nothing could make him happier.

He looked around, at their new house and their new life, a fresh new start for all of them as the family they were always meant to be.

I love you.

He doesn't realize he's said it aloud before he receives a small chorus in response.

"Love you too, dad."

"Me too, Papi."

And then Lovino, who's looking up at him with adoring eyes.

"More than anything, Antonio."

And Antonio couldn't possibly imagine anything more perfect.

"Now sit down and eat your damn food before it gets cold."

Or perhaps he could.

A/N: Shut up, I'm not late it's still Sunday where I live. Barely.

Wellp, that was it folks, this feels strangely anticlimatic but that's probably because I'm half asleep as I type this and already counting sheep, I'll probably have my proper freak out tomorrow.

As I said in the beginning, I've been writing this for nearly two years and finally sharing it with all of you has been such a lovely expirience. I received several reviews that never failed to make my day, and I just hope you all know how grateful I am that you chose to give this story a chance and that those of you who liked it felt it in their hearts to share it with me.

Now, for the thing I should've done since chapter one but didn't because I'm a dumbass, this story is dedicated to my lovely wife, Iggy, who is an amazing person that I love dearly. It's because of her (and two years of nagging at me to complete this) that this story has reached an end after so long. She was and always will be my first reader and my number one supporter and I haven't the words to express how incredibly grateful I am to hve her in my life. You are, unquestionably, the best, dearest.

Last thing before you leave, if you liked this piece of work, I hope you'll consider reading some of the other stories I have posted and perhaps even be on the look out for what is to come in the future (*cough*, Pirate AU, *cough* cough* Sufin *cough*). Truly posting my first chapter story on here has been a wonderful expirience and one that I hope to repeat soon, so if that's something you wish to see you are in luck.

Thank you once more for reading this, you have no idea just how happy it makes me and I hope you all have lovely weeks for as long as there are weeks to be lovely.


End file.
